


Bond DVD Extras

by AnnaFugazzi



Series: Bond [2]
Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 08:42:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 30,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2061522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaFugazzi/pseuds/AnnaFugazzi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Timelines, newspaper articles, and deleted scenes from "Bond."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Technical Stuff

**Author's Note:**

> Like it says on the tin, these are added bits for Bond. None of it will make the slightest sense if you have not read Bond, sorry :(

**BOND DVD EXTRAS**

There are (or rather, there will be, hopefully soon) six pages of DVD extras here:

1.       **Technical stuff (this page):**  Class schedules, Story timeline (including Quidditch games, newspaper articles and deleted scenes), Quidditch scores, Bond-related links.

2.       **Newspaper articles:** Interview with Draco (ch. 14); Article alleging Harry was an abusive spouse (ch. 17); Article exposing their renewed relationship (ch. 18).

3.       **Extra Scenes #1,** A scene that answers Conny1908's question "What exactly was Harry dreaming of, that morning that Draco woke him up from a very interesting dream?" (ch. 4), and the fight in the Great Hall and the scene in Dumbledore's office, from Harry's POV (ch. 4-5).

4.       **Extra Scenes #2,** Calíope Amphora's persistent plotbunny re. the healing circle and immediate aftermath, Lucius Malfoy's POV (ch. 11-12).

5.       **Extra Scenes #3,** How Draco and Harry survived being all alone over the Christmas holidays (ch. 14), and a scene between Draco and Stephen Cornfoot during Harry and Draco's separation (ch. 16).

6.       **Extra Scenes #4,** POVs of the Gryffindor Polyjuice Squad (ch. 20), and the "five hideous days" when Lucius activated Draco's Mark (between ch 21-epilogue).

** Technical Stuff **

·        Class schedules

·        Story timeline (including Quidditch games, newspaper articles and deleted scenes)

·        Quidditch scores

·        Bond-related links

**Class Schedules**

Yes. I really am this obsessive. I was bored during one of my own classes one day and created three Hogwarts student schedules. Decided to use two of them for this story when I started writing it. They're slightly AU, in that I started the story before Half-Blood Prince came out, so all that had been mentioned was that certain teachers wouldn't allow students into their 6th and 7th year classes if they didn't do well on the OWLs. I had figured Neville probably wouldn't be in Potions, but thought some other non-brilliant students (Goyle, for example) probably would be. Which, um, no. I also figured Potions would be small enough that it would have students from all houses, but didn't realize that most of the other classes would also be mixed. Or that Potions would only have about 8 students. So in my story, most classes are still pretty full and are usually only composed of one or two houses.

So here are Draco and Harry's class schedules before the bond, with the classes they're forced to drop italicized, followed by their post-bond class schedule.

Draco

1: Potions (mixed)

2: Transfigurations (Slytherin/Ravenclaw)

3: DADA (Slytherin/Gryffindor)

_4: Charms (Slytherin)_

_5: Lunch_

6: Arithmancy (mixed)

7\. Free

8: Ancient Runes (Slytherin)

_9: History Of Magic (Slytherin)_

Harry

1: Potions (mixed)

_2: Muggle Studies_

3: DADA (Slytherin/Gryffindor)

_4: Transfigurations (Gryffindor)_

5: Charms (Gryffindor)

_6: Lunch_

7\. Free

8: Astronomy (Gryffindor)

9: Herbology (Gryffindor/Hufflepuff)

Post-bond class schedule

1: Potions (mixed)

2: Transfigurations (Slytherin/Ravenclaw)

3: DADA (Slytherin/Gryffindor)

4: Lunch

5: Charms (Gryffindor)

6: Arithmancy (mixed)

7\. Free

8: Astronomy (Gryffindor), Ancient Runes (Slytherin) on alternate days

9: Herbology (Gryffindor/Hufflepuff)

After unbonding, Draco switches back to Slytherin Charms class in 4th period, lunch 5th period, and only goes to Ancient Runes during 8th period. Harry stays in all the same classes but now only goes to Astronomy during 8th period.

I know. It's very sad. Because they're no longer in the same classes and they miss - wait. Did you mean it was very sad that I went to the trouble of making and rearranging class schedules for fictional characters?

Um, yeah. Detail-oriented.

**ooooooo**

**Story Timeline**

**Chapter 1**

_Names in bold indicate which character's point of view the scene is written in. Entries in italics indicate a Quidditch game, newpaper article, or extra scene._

**Day 1, Tuesday, September 29, Harry** Wake up in the hospital, bonded.

Go to sleep in the hospital.

 **Day 2, Wednesday, September 30, Draco,** Wake up.

Potions class, have to sit together.

Lunch in the courtyard.

Move into married quarters.

Ron & Hermione visit married quarters.

 **Day 3, Thursday, October 1, Harry,** Wake up, late for Transfiguration.

**Chapter 2**

**Day 3, Thursday, October 1 (ctn), Harry,** Draco is snarky in class.

Pomfrey's office.

Entire Arithmancy class finds out Harry's a virgin.

Back home, firetalk to parents/Lupin.

 **Day 4, Friday, October 2, Draco,** Need to be close grows stronger, move beds together.

Friends study at their place.

 **Day 6, Sunday, October 4, Harry,** Talk to Lupin, thinking about bond.

**Chapter 3**

**Day 11, Friday, October 9, Draco,** Attraction begins, wake up with vivid dreams.

 **Day 13, Sunday, October 11, Harry,** Talk to Lupin.

 **Day 14, Monday, October 12, Draco,** Potions class, both are distracted.

Try to have lunch apart.

 **Snape** **,** Collapse in Great Hall.

 **Day 15, Tuesday, October 13, Draco,** Wake up in hospital again.

Visit from Lucius.

Talk with the 'team' about going back to the dorms and other ways of dealing with the bond.

Go to sleep.

 **Day 16, Wednesday, October 14, Harry,** Non-hostile chat in the hospital.

**Chapter 4**

**Day 17, Thursday, October 15, Draco,** Back to Gryffindor Tower.

 **Day 19, Saturday, October 17, Harry,** Harry talks to Ron in the dorm while the other boys sleep in.

 **Day 21, Monday, October 19, Harry,** Attraction begins again.

Talk in courtyard. Draco is taking a patience potion.

 **Day 23, Wednesday, October 21, Draco,** Draco wakes Harry up from intense dream.

_(Extra scene: **Day 23, Wednesday, October 21, Harry,**  The Dream That Got Harry Hot And Bothered.)_

Fighting in Potions class.

Serious fight in the Great Hall.

_(Extra scene: **Day 23, Wednesday, October 21, Harry,**  After the Fight)_

**Chapter 5**

**Day 23, Wednesday, October 21 (ctn), Draco,** Dumbledore's office, first kiss, voluntarily suspension begins.

End of the day in their quarters.

 **Day 24, Thursday, October 22, Harry,** First morning of suspension. Working on 'getting comfortable' with each other.

**Chapter 6**

**Day 24, Thursday, October 22 (ctn), Harry,** First morning continued, feeling tired.

Go flying.

Talk about marriage & mpreg. Harry thinks about physical relationship.

Lunch, The List: removing some items, doing some others.

Decide to go to Hogsmeade for dinner.

**Chapter 7**

**Day 25, Friday, October 23, Draco,** Harry wakes Draco from intense dream.

Leaving the room, Draco's getting better at apologizing.

Lunch, Draco panics at how close they're getting, slightly rough activity takes place.

Dinner in Hogsmeade.

 **Ron,** Ron, Pansy and Ernie find Harry & Draco coming back from dinner very drunk.

**Chapter 8**

**Day 26, Saturday, October 24, Harry,** Pomfrey worried about Draco's injuries, calls Esposito.

Esposito talks about lethargy and the immediate future of their sex life.

Back at room, talk about how curse may have been deliberately miscast.

**Chapter 9**

**Day 28, Monday, October 26, Draco,** Leaving their quarters, Draco realizes they've changed.

Back to class, other Slytherins realize they've changed.

Falling asleep between classes, talk about returning to Slytherin.

Nott does Virgo Acclaro spell.

Dinner, Harry tells Ron & Hermione that he's going to Slytherin.

Back to Slytherin, Harry falls asleep in common room.

 **Day 29, Tuesday, October 27, Harry,** Wake up at Slytherin, Harry observes Slytherin interactions. Realizes they've become a couple.

Draco falls asleep in Herbology, Harry tells Ron & Hermione he's got to side with Draco sometimes.

 **Day 31, Thursday, October 29 (dawn), Draco,** First time.

**Chapter 10**

**Day 31, Thursday, October 29 (morning), Harry,** Wake up.

Sent to talk to Aurors, think about last night.

Harry gets angry at Auror Tobin.

Virgo Acclaro at dinner, go back to room to sleep before going back to Slytherin.

 **Day 32, Friday, October 30, Draco,** At Gryffindor, lethargy more pronounced.

Ron & Hermione talk about letting people they trust in on what's happening

 **Day 33, Saturday, October 31, Hermione,** Halloween party, Harry & Draco too tired to attend, Pansy tries to talk to Hermione.

_(Quidditch Game #1: Hufflepuff 190/Slytherin 10)_

**Chapter 11**

**Day 35, Monday, November 2, Draco,** Collapse, taken to hospital wing. Again.

 **Hermione,** Draco's parents show up.

 **Day 36, Tuesday, November 3, Ron,** Lucius tries to take Draco away.

 **Day 38, Thursday, November 5, Hermione** Summon healing circle, explain the plan.

 **Snape,** Lucius decides.

 **Hermione,** Circle forms with Lucius, Narcissa, Snape, Pansy, Blaise, Remus, McGonnagall, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Dumbledore, Pomfrey, Esposito.

_(Extra scene: **Day 38, Thursday, November 5, Lucius,**  Healing Circle)_

**Chapter 12**

**Day 39, Friday, November 6, Hermione,** After the healing circle, Hermione, Ron, Narcissa, Lucius keep vigil.

 **Day 40, Saturday, November 7, Draco,** Still in hospital, getting bored. Talk to Narcissa, Ron & Ginny. Talk about Voldemort and switching sides.

First time sleeping together since circle.

 **Day 42, Monday, November 9, Harry,** Hogsmeade. Talk about their childhoods, think about Slytherin change in attitude.

 **Hermione,** Hermione says goodbye to Esposito.

 **Day 56, Monday, November 23, Harry,** Waking up in Slytherin, social upheaval continues.

Potions class, Lucius is in the papers.

**Chapter 13**

**Day 61, Saturday, November 28, Draco,** Studying in the library followed by Seeker's Game. Lucius visits and reveals family plans, talks about healer's records, tells Draco he has to do an interview.

**Chapter 14**

**Day 62, Sunday, November 29 (dawn), Harry,** Draco wakes up from a nightmare about Lucius.

 **Day 63, Monday, November 30, Harry,** Potions practice, new interactions between Gryffindors and Slytherins.

**_(Day 65, Wednesday, December 2, Daily Prophet Article, "A Bond Revealed: Interview With Draco Malfoy")_ **

**Day 68, Saturday, December 5, Draco,** Awkward breakfast with Gryffindors. Pansy explains why she's still on Draco's side.

 **Day 75, Saturday, December 12, Draco,** Quidditch game, Draco in the Gryffindor stands.

_(Quidditch Game #2: Gryffindor 150/Ravenclaw 40)_

**Day 86, Wednesday, December 23, Harry,** Yule Ball, Malfoys beginning to rise again, Lucius proud of Draco. Fellow students organize a circle dance.

_(Extra scene: **Day 89, Saturday, December 26, Draco,**  Christmas Blues)_

**Day 98, Monday, January 4, Draco,** Back to class after Christmas. Gryffindors and Slytherins getting along well, Malfoy family doing better, Death Eater activity rising.

 **Day 115, Thursday, January 21, Harry,** Talk about housing after school and being attracted to other people. Both playing Quidditch again. Draco finds out his father found the caster.

**Chapter 15**

**Day 115, Thursday, January 21 (ctn), Harry,** Talk about finding the caster.

Last night together.

 **Day 116, Friday, January 22, Draco,** Leave their room for the last time.

Unbonding. Lucius Malfor is going to see Voldemort.

Slytherin post-divorce party.

 **Day 117, Saturday, January 23, Harry,** Slytherin/Ravenclaw game, Baddock still Seeker.

_(Quidditch Game #3: Ravenclaw 170/Slytherin 50)_

**Chapter 16**

**Day 119, Monday, January 25, Draco,** Back at school again, wondering if Lucius is all right.

 **Day 121, Wednesday, January 27, Harry,** Reading the Prophet.

 **Day 123, Friday, January 29, Pansy,** Draco sleeps with Pansy.

 **Day 125, Sunday, January 31, Hermione,** Harry 'dates' Hannah Abbott.

 **Day 129, Thursday, February 4, Harry,** Harry runs in to Draco by the Quidditch hut.

_(Extra scene: **Day 130, Friday, February 5, Draco,**  Stephen Cornfoot propositions Draco.)_

**Chapter 17**

**Day 133, Monday, February 8, Draco,** Prophet runs abuse story, Draco & Harry talk again.

_(Daily Prophet Article, "Boy Who Lived, Abusive Spouse?")_

Draco thinks about how stupid it would be to get involved with Harry again.

 **Day 134, Tuesday, February 9, Harry,** Transfiguration session turns into getting back together.

Ron finds out, tells Harry he'd better tell Hermione.

 **Day 136, Thursday, February 11, Draco,** PWP scene.

Pansy lets Draco know she knows about him and Harry, and warns him that his father will kill him if he finds out.

**Chapter 18**

**Day 143, Thursday, February 18, Pansy,** Pansy, Blaise and Hermione walk in on Harry & Draco. Blaise also warns Draco about his father.

 **Day 145, Saturday, February 20, Harry,** Harry & Draco fight over Lucius & politics.

 **Day 147, Monday, February 22, Draco,** Pansy brings up the possibility of them being discovered.

 **Day 152, Saturday, February 27, Draco,** Prophet exposes them, Draco is disowned.

_(Daily Prophet Article, "A Bond Renewed")_

**Chapter 19**

**Day 152, Saturday, February 27, Harry,** Draco in the infirmary.

 **Day 154, Monday, March 1, (dawn), Ron,** Harry's worried about Draco going back to Malfoy Manor.

 **Harry,** Draco comes back.

Draco tells Harry what happened at Malfoy Manor.

 **Day 160, Sunday, March 7, Draco,** Fight over Lucius and Death Eaters, break up.

 **Day 166, Saturday, March 13, Ron,** Draco asks Ron why Harry's not playing.

_(Quidditch Game #4: Hufflepuff 160/Gryffindor 60)_

**Day 169, Tuesday, March 16, Hermione,** Draco asks Hermione why Harry's not in class.

**Chapter 20**

**Day 171, Thursday, March 18, Harry,** Draco brings in Esposito, realize the bond was never dissolved; Draco was just taken out of it.

_(Extra scene(s): **Day 172, Friday, March 19**  to  **Day 174, Sunday, March 21,**  "The Gryffindor Polyjuice Squad")_

**Day 173, Saturday, March 20, Draco,** Draco firetalks to Narcissa, asks her about Lucius' involvement.

 **Day 174, Sunday, March 21, Pansy,** Draco and Pansy are polyjuiced to look like Ron and Ginny Weasley, so that Draco can be near. Hermione and Pansy talk.

**Chapter 21**

**Day 175, Monday, March 22, Snape,** Draco asks Lucius to let him save Harry.

 **Day 176, Tuesday, March 23, Draco,** Draco makes his choice.

 **Harry,**  Harry and Draco say goodbye to Esposito, talk at the end of the day.

**Epilogue**

_(Extra Scene(s): **Day 178, Thursday, March 25**  to  **Day 183, Tuesday, March 30,**  "Five Hideous Days")_

_(not shown: Quidditch Game #5: Ravenclaw 160/Hufflepuff 30)_

**Day 236, Saturday, May 22, Harry,** Last Quidditch game of the year.

_(Quidditch Game #6: Slytherin 160/Gryffindor 40)_

_(Final scores: Hufflepuff 380, Ravenclaw 370, Gryffindor 250, Slytherin 220)_

**ooooooo**

**Quidditch** **Games**

**Day 33, Saturday, October 31,**  Hufflepuff 190/Slytherin 10

 **Day 75, Saturday, December 12,** Gryffindor 150/Ravenclaw 40

 **Day 117, Saturday, January 23,** Ravenclaw 170/Slytherin 50

 **Day 166, Saturday, March 13,** Hufflepuff 160/Gryffindor 60

 **Day 201, April 17, Saturday,**  April 17, Ravenclaw 160/Hufflepuff 30

 **Day 236, Saturday, May 22,** Slytherin 160/Gryffindor 40

 **Final scores:**  Hufflepuff 380, Ravenclaw 370, Gryffindor 250, Slytherin 220

**ooooooo**

**Bond-Related Links**

** Translations **

Calíope Amphora has translated Bond into Portuguese, with Dana Norram as beta. It can be found at the following site:

www.fanfiction.net/s/2773972/1/

Claes is translating Bond into French:

www.fanfiction.net/s/3181930/1/

There is also supposedly a Russian translation in the works, but I don't know where. If anybody finds it, can you let me know where it is? It's being done with permission, so that's not the problem; I'd just like to be able to link to it :)

** Remix **

coffeejunki did a remix of Bond, called Never Say Never  _(The Unexpected Remix)_ , set during chapter 20. Meant especially for those readers who were a bit disappointed when I permanently (I thought!) closed off a certain genre of plotline. Go see :)

www.community.livejournal.com/hd_remix/9060.html

** OK, there is no reason for this other than sheer horn-tooting, but see I've never won  _anything_  before and - actually, no, wait, there is a good reason for this link! It's to provide readers with a link to a lot of other HP fics! Yeah, that's it. **

Bond was nominated under the Bonding Fics category at The Sorting Hat, and it came in second, after Gold-Tinted Spectacles by Beren.

http://partial-eclipse.net/sortinghat/winners.html

** Other sites **

Bond is posted on two other sites, fanfiction.net and skyhawke.com:

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2493456/1/

archive.skyehawke.com/story.php?no=11092

** Pictures **

I do a  _lot_  of doodling. Some of my doodles become story illustrations. No guarantee of quality here, folks. Caveat visor.

 **Chapter 3:**  Potter wasn't taking notes. He'd written out the Danish Futhark Runic alphabet three times and the Greek alphabet once, drawn a picture of a quill, a desk, a chair, Hermione Granger, and twelve little three-dimensional boxes, and set a simple spell to make them all dance across the page.

i9.photobucket.com/albums/a71/AnnaFugazzi/BondCh3.gif

 **Chapter 5:**  "We're supposed to get 'comfortable' with each other, whatever that means. And, and you said you wanted me to lead here. So... I'm leading."

i9.photobucket.com/albums/a71/AnnaFugazzi/BondCh5.jpg

 **Chapter 6:** "I'd say 'talk about your parents' is pretty much out," Malfoy said grimly, and touched his wand to the paper. A line appeared across the words.

i9.photobucket.com/albums/a71/AnnaFugazzi/BondCh6.jpg

 **Chapter 7:** "Draco, darling, it's a damn good thing Lucius isn't here right now."

i9.photobucket.com/albums/a71/AnnaFugazzi/BondCh7.jpg

 **DVD Extras, Chapter 4: "** Lucius felt a tiny hand grip his finger firmly and a completely unexpected thrill shot through him."

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a71/AnnaFugazzi/BondDVDExtraVersion2.jpg

** Really  _Good_  Pictures **

Now, if you want to see pictures drawn by somebody who's not trying to figure out which end of the pencil is pointy but who actually has talent, here's a few. Chibitoaster read and liked Bond, and asked if she could illustrate. After I picked my jaw off the floor and said yes, she started drawing. And so far, here's what she's come up with:

Cover illustration:  
www.chibitoaster.com/bond_cover_f.jpg Ch 1, The happy newlyweds:  
www.chibitoaster.com/bonded_ch1.jpg Ch 3, Having a liittle trouble concentrating in Potions class:  
www.chibitoaster.com/potions_class.jpg Ch 4, The fight in the Great Hall:  
www.chibitoaster.com/fight-ink.jpg Ch 5, Dumbledore's sitting room, first kiss:  
www.chibitoaster.com/h-dkiss_2.jpg Ch 9, That Scene At The End Of The Chapter,  **Decidedly Not Work Safe, I don't even think it's skyhawke-safe, e-mail or Private Owl me for URL :)**  Ch 14, Arriving at the Yule Ball:  
www.chibitoaster.com/yule_ball_f.jpg Ch 17, Meeting to exchange notes for Herbology and Transfiguration... yeah, that's it:  
www.chibitoaster.com/scarf-chair_f.jpg 


	2. Newspaper Articles

** Newspaper Articles **

1.       **Day 65, Wednesday, December 2, "A Bond Revealed"**  (interview with Draco, done by a reporter with "discreet ties" to the Malfoys (i.e. a well-placed payoff))

2.       **Day 133, Monday, February 8, "Boy Who Lived, Abusive Spouse?"**

3.       **Day 152, Saturday, February 27, "A Bond Renewed"**

**ooooooo**

**_The Daily Prophet  
_ Wednesday, December 2**

**_A Bond Revealed: Interview With Draco Malfoy_ **

Two months ago, the wizarding world was shocked to learn that Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, had been cursed with a forced marriage. More shocking still was the identity of his new spouse: Draco Malfoy, only son of Lucius Malfoy, who was arrested last year for activities allegedly connected to You-Know-Who. As Hogwarts kept a tight lid on all information concerning the two young men, for months we have had to be content with nothing but hearsay and rumors about their marriage. This week, Draco Malfoy finally agreed to our request to do an interview.

I spoke to young Mr. Malfoy in the Great Hall at Hogwarts, and while he expressed some discomfort at being involuntarily thrust into the spotlight, he was forthcoming and candid with us. And although Harry Potter did not agree to be interviewed, and Malfoy declined to speak for his spouse, Potter was present while I conducted the interview, doing schoolwork at a nearby table. At one point, when I asked a question that made Malfoy uncomfortable, Potter glanced over, obviously highly attuned to the discomfort that his spouse was feeling. He started to rise from his seat, but Malfoy merely shook his head and gave him a reassuring smile and he sat back down. It was a small thing, but showed, better than words ever could, the rapport that has grown between the two.

What follows is an excerpt of my interview with young Mr. Malfoy. Please note that, while we are aware that the wizarding world is keenly interested in knowing some of the more intimate details of their marriage, out of respect for their privacy and consideration of the fact that both of them are still very young, I did not question Malfoy on those details.

\---

**First of all, I would like to thank you for taking the time to talk to us.**

You're welcome.

**The wizarding world is dying to know how you are both doing. What would you tell them?**

We're fine. We've adjusted to the bond, we're doing all right.

**Tell us, what was it like, that first day? We heard that the curse knocked you both out - do you know why?**

We were told that the suddenness of the bond - you know, feeling each other's feelings and all that - was too big a shock. Especially because of how the bond happened. We were arguing, and we walked through a door, and that set it off. It was completely unexpected.

**So you went from a heated argument to waking up in the hospital wing, bonded?**

**How did anybody figure out you'd been bonded?**

I was told the bond sign appeared, you know, around our wrists.

**You were told?**

I've no memory of any of it. Neither one of us does.

**That's interesting. Some people claimed that you'd been put under a body-bind spell and then bonded, and that your memory was erased so that you couldn't tell anybody who'd done it.**

No, that's not what happened at all. Not sure how people got that idea. I mean, there were at least five witnesses right there when it happened.

**What did you think, when you woke up?**

Erm... well I actually thought it was some kind of sick joke. But then we realized we could feel each other through the bond, and nobody around us was laughing, so we had to accept it.

**We've heard that you were considered rivals, were you not?**

We... didn't get along very well.

**From what I've heard, that's a bit of an understatement.**

(laugh) Yeah, I suppose so. It was just schoolboy stuff, though. You know, fights, insults, that kind of thing. And we were both Seekers, so there was that, and our houses don't generally get along.

**Gryffindor and Slytherin, yes.** **Not generally the two most friendly houses.**

**What was it like, the first few days?**

It was... it was pretty difficult. We had to leave our dorms, move into our own quarters, which was a bit of a shock. Switch a bunch of our classes so we could attend together, and we both had to drop out of Quidditch.

**You were both Seekers and Captains of your respective teams, were you not?**

Yeah. It was hard, having to leave that.

**And what about living together? I can only imagine what it must have been like, having to spend all day with somebody you don't like.**

It wasn't easy.

**We were told you landed yourselves in the hospital not very long after your bonding. What can you tell us about that?**

Yeah, a couple of weeks in. We just got sick of each other and tried to get away from each other. It didn't work out very well.

**No, I can imagine. New spouses are not supposed to be more than a few feet apart for the first little while.**

Well, we knew that, but it was really not easy to be together all the time. So we tried to - we went to sit at our separate tables. Don't know how long it took, just a few minutes, then we both passed out. Felt horrible afterwards, too.

**What happened after that?**

The bonding spells specialist decided we should be allowed to go back to each other's dorms if we wanted to. You know, to be with our own friends and not just alone all the time.

**Did that help?**

**And then we heard that there was a rather spectacular fight in the Great Hall? What was that all about?**

That's... private. We were just... tense. We were getting along a lot better, but it was still... rather tense.

**Yes, we heard. There were a lot of rumors going around about the state of your bond at the time.**

I heard.

**Were they true?**

I don't know, I didn't read any of them.

**Really?**

Things were complicated enough. I didn't particularly want to read what people thought about what was going on.

**That's understandable. The rumors had to do with the two of you not consummating your marriage for some time after the bonding took place.**

Yeah, I thought so.

**Was that true?**

I don't think I have to answer that.

**No, not if you don't want to. How did you get over whatever the problem was, though? There were so many stories - you both being sent to St. Mungo's, or being suspended from school, or staying in the infirmary to recover from your injuries - one source even claimed you'd been briefly sent to Azkaban for assaulting each other.**

Azkaban??

**Oh yes.**

No, no, nothing like that.

**How badly were you hurt?**

It was just a fight. It got a little out of control, but-

**One source claimed an Unforgivable was used.**

No, nothing like that. God. We didn't hex each other at all.

**Is it true that Mr. Potter caused extensive damage to school property?**

A bit, but it was just a fight. We'd done worse to each other before being bonded. The only reason it was a serious problem was that because of the bond, the teachers couldn't just take away House points and give us each a dozen detentions.

**So what did they do instead?**

We didn't go to St. Mungo's. We just went to our quarters, and spent the next four days at the school but not in classes. The Healer from St. Mungo's gave us a list of things to do to get to know each other better - you know, tell each other about our pasts, what our favourite classes were, that kind of thing.

**The kinds of things that people do when they bond for political purposes?**

Yeah, pretty much. I'd expected to have to do all of that some day; I just didn't think it would be so soon. Or with another boy.

**Did it bother you that your new spouse was male?**

Not much, no.

**Had you ever dated other boys?**

No, but it wasn't that big a problem. I mean, the bond takes care of that, doesn't it? Plenty of gay wizards marry somebody of the opposite sex and manage all right. Besides, the fact that it was him was a lot more difficult than the fact that he was male.

**Now, what happened, exactly, a few weeks ago? We heard that the two of you had landed in the hospital wing again, and that there was an additional curse?**

Yeah. It's kind of technical and the Aurors don't really want me talking about it.

**I hear that it required a great deal of effort to set to rights.**

**Your parents were involved in it, weren't they? Helped to save Mr. Potter's life as well as your own, didn't they?**

Yes, they did. My mother also helped develop the spell that was used.

**And how do your parents and your spouse get along?**

They haven't really had to get along. We're at school, so they don't actually see each other much.

**But is there animosity between them?**

I wouldn't say so, no. The few times they've had to be in the same room there's been no conflict.

**What about the two of you? Any lingering animosity there?**

**How did you get from where you started, to here? You seem to be getting along well, you walked in together-**

We have to walk in together, the bond doesn't really let us be apart all that often.

**No, I know, but you came in talking together, and you seem at ease with each other.**

Yeah, we are.

**How did you get there?**

It just took time. We just needed to get to know each other as people. The four days helped a lot. And we both really wanted it to work. We'd put each other through a lot, so we knew we had to really work to make things better.

**Kind of like a honeymoon? There were stories that you'd gone off somewhere exotic together.**

That's daft. No, our honeymoon was The Three Broomsticks at Hogsmeade.

**(laugh) Oh dear. Not terribly exotic.**

Not terribly, no.

**Is that really all you needed to do? Get to know each other better and be willing to work together?**

**Before the bond, would you have ever suspected that was all it would take?**

(laugh) No, never. But I didn't know him very well, I think. He's... not quite the same person I thought he was.

**No?**

He's not bad, once you get to know him. And it turned out we had a lot in common. I mean, we both love Quidditch, and we play chess at the same level, and we can actually... you know, talk.

**About what?**

Life in general. School, classes, other students.

**I would imagine there's a lot you can't talk about. The history between your family and him...**

That's not really a problem.

**How do you think of him? Other than the fact that he's your spouse, do you think of him as a friend, or do you still see him as a rival, or-**

No, he's a friend.

**A close friend, or a sort of acquaintance-friend?**

Close friend.

**So there's friendship there. Is there love?**

I wouldn't call it love - we care about each other, I suppose.

**Do you share personal thoughts and feelings? Hopes, dreams of the future?**

Well, we live together, so of course personal things come up every so often.

**And do you support each other in difficult times?**

It wouldn't be terribly bright not to, would it, when we can feel what the other is feeling?

**But with your history, you can understand why people would be skeptical about-**

It's just like any other marriage. It doesn't matter what we were like before the bond, we're there for each other if we have to be. Like I said, we're friends.

**And what about your friends?** **How do they get along?**

All right. They've all been pretty supportive.

**Are you welcomed at Gryffindor?**

Yeah, they're pretty decent.

**And what about Slytherin?**

Same thing. It's not really that strange. People have been known to date people from other houses.

**Yes, but going into another house's dormitories...**

Well, yeah, that part's unusual, but everybody's adjusted to it.

**Do you think the Gryffindors see you as an honorary Gryffindor?**

Er, no. No, not at all. I may be married to a Gryffindor, but I'm still a Slytherin. I wouldn't want that to change.

**Still have house pride?**

Yeah, absolutely.

**What about Quidditch? Will you be cheering for Gryffindor during their next game?**

Oh. I haven't thought that far ahead yet.

**And what do you see in your future? As a couple? Do you see your future together, or separate? After all, you are in seventh year, the end of school isn't that far away.**

Erm... I'm not really thinking about the future right now.

**There are so many rumors - that you're moving in together after school, that you're in love, that you're planning on having children together-**

Children? Erm, no, we haven't talked about that. I mean, we're just getting through seventh year, have to get through the NEWTs first. I don't know. It's a long way away. We'll figure it out when we get there.

**It seems you've figured out a great deal already.**

**I'm sure you'll do well. Thank you very much for agreeing to speak to us.**

You're welcome.

\---

I must admit, I left the interview rather in awe of what both of them have accomplished. These two boys have turned what could have been a nightmare into a warm and caring marriage. In just two short months, they have managed to get past childhood enmity, troubling history between their families, Hogwarts inter-house rivalry, and a mysterious curse, and have managed to come out the other side with aplomb.

Would that more adults could behave with the courage and dignity that these young gentlemen have demonstrated.

**ooooooo**

**_The Daily Prophet  
_ Monday, February 8**

**_Boy Who Lived, Abusive Spouse?_ **

It seemed too good to be true, and apparently it was. The brief marriage of Harry Potter to his childhood rival Draco Malfoy, punctuated by rumours of conflict and violence, appears to have actually been abusive, if reports from Hogwarts are to be believed. The Prophet has learned that during the couple's time together, his spouse was twice treated for serious physical injuries suffered at the hands of Mr. Potter, and that at one point the school nurse was so concerned with his safety that she contacted a Healer from St. Mungo's to come and evaluate the situation.

The young man in question claimed that their relationship, though fraught with conflict in its early days, had settled into a good marriage with a bit of work. How can this be believed?

"I know what I saw," said one student on condition of anonymity, "Potter punched him in the face, right in the Great Hall. And nobody did anything about it, just sent them off to be alone for four days."

Lucius Malfoy expressed shock at rumours of his son's ordeal at Potter's hands, and added that considering Potter's past, he had strongly advocated sending them both to St. Mungo's, but "I was unable to convince the other adults involved of the importance of keeping both of them safe. I was assured that my son wanted to stay at school, but with an abusive spouse and a cadre of adults who only seemed to want to keep everything quiet, I now very much wonder how free he was to speak his mind."

It seems this situation demands to be investigated.

**ooooooo**

**_The Daily Prophet  
_ Saturday, February 27**

**_A Bond Renewed_ **

Since the day after their divorce, rumours have circulated alleging that Harry Potter and his ex, Draco Malfoy, have become romantically involved again. Now, for the first time, pictures taken on Hogwarts grounds and sent to The Prophet show those rumours confirmed by solid visual evidence.

There is no way to tell how long the couple has been back together, or indeed if they ever really separated other than formally, though officially the wizarding world had been led to believe that they had. Indeed, in the last few weeks, Malfoy has been linked to various other people at the school, including a Muggle-born Hufflepuff girl, an unnamed teacher, and fellow Slytherin Quidditch teammate Seamus Finnigan. Potter has also been linked to various fellow students, male and female, although none of those speculations has been printed in these pages, as The Prophet is not in the habit of exposing the private lives of Hogwarts students without reason or evidence.

Nevertheless, this reunion will not come as a surprise to many of our readers, many of whom expressed surprise at the fact that the two had decided to unbond in the first place, as, by all reports, their marriage had settled into a very good and close relationship.

It is possible that Potter and Malfoy simply opted to dissolve the involuntary bond but remain together until they decided to go their separate ways or re-bond voluntarily. And while normally it would be premature to speculate on whether wedding bells will ring for any couple that has only been together for a few months, we must remember that these two young men have already experienced a successful marriage. It won't be surprising if they do decide to remarry, this time of their own free will. They would likely have the support of many of our readers who have expressed a fond desire to see them reunite.

Whether Malfoy's family will echo the support of Prophet readers is difficult to tell. Convicted Death Eater Lucius Malfoy, father of Draco Malfoy, who was shown these pictures prior to their publication, appeared shocked but had no comment about his son's renewed romantic relationship with Potter. At the time of the divorce, Lucius Malfoy expressed a desire to see his son's "friendship" with Potter continue, but clearly seemed to expect it to remain a friendship and nothing more.

The larger political ramifications of this liaison are difficult to predict. In recent weeks, as news of Death Eater activity has risen, many have speculated that Lucius Malfoy has returned to his previous position alongside You-Know-Who. If true, his son's relationship with the Boy Who Lived will no doubt put that position in doubt. What consequences this will have for the Malfoy family, for Harry Potter, and for us all, are too numerous to contemplate.

Even more troubling to consider: The Prophet, in an exclusive interview with an Auror who agreed to speak only on condition of anonymity, has learned that this current rapprochement between Potter and young Mr. Malfoy may be part of a plot by You-Know-Who. A plot aided and abetted by Lucius Malfoy, to bring his son into a position of trust with the Boy Who Lived and his allies in order to gain inside information, or to weaken Potter, or to strike him when he is most vulnerable. Ugly as it may seem to believe that a seventeen year old boy (who, by all accounts, became a close friend to Potter during their marriage) may be plotting to betray him in the most heinous way, our source in the Ministry claims that it "would be irresponsible of us to not consider and guard against that possibility."

Readers can rest assured that The Prophet will keep them up to date as to the latest developments in this ongoing story.


	3. Extra Scenes #1, Chapters 4-5, All About UST

_1._ **Day 23, Wednesday, October 21, Harry,**   _I may never stop taking this patience potion, thought Draco dazedly as he valiantly tried to ignore the sight and sounds of Potter dreaming about something... interesting._

_2._ **Day 23, Wednesday, October 21, Harry,**   _"Finite incantatum. Now, unless you wish to be expelled immediately, follow me quietly to my office," Dumbledore said, his gentle tone at odds with his stern words. Snape approached with their wands in hand, motioning them towards the door._

**(Scene 1) Day 23, Wednesday**

You know what you want. You know what you need, Ron says, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. His rook nods vigorously, and winks at Harry's queen.

I don't want it.

You do. Look at him.

He does look incredible, and Harry's been wanting to touch him for so long, and he's been so hard for so long he's slowly going insane. And the pointy-faced git just sits there, looking like he could just wait for Harry forever. Harry can't help feeling a little angry at him. Maybe it's not fair, but the thing is, Ron's not acting normal. There is no way that Ron should be smiling at Malfoy and clapping him on the back and nudging him over to where Harry's sitting. And there's no way Ron should grin at Harry as if to say, See? I told you this would make you happy. Somewhere pigs are doing aerial cartwheels through hell, and dodging snowballs.

Harry probably shouldn't be kissing Malfoy - kissing is supposedly more for girls, isn't it? Do boys like to kiss? Damn it, this would be a lot easier if he'd had some kind of experience with this kind of thing, and not just Cho crying on him, pissed of at him for having thought she was Malfoy for a moment. Then again, she wanted Harry to be Cedric, so this kind of makes them even.

It would be really nice if Malfoy was looking more like his usual sneering self, and Harry could just push him away, but Malfoy's looking serious and telling him he's taking a patience potion.  _Malfoy_ , admitting he needs help in order to deal with Harry. Making Harry feel about three feet tall, because Malfoy's impatient with him in part because he's Malfoy, and impatience is how he reacts to Harry, but also in part because Harry is acting like a scared child and he knows it.

Somebody said Esposito means "little husband" in Latin*. Which Harry's pretty sure isn't true, for all that his Latin is mostly confined to magical terms. Still, funny that she should be dealing with two little husbands, though Fred says the correct term for spouses of the same sex is "spouse," not husband or wife, no idea why. Funny that the wizarding world would have terms like that.

We're not like the Muggle world, Malfoy sneers. And then comes closer to catch Harry's mouth in a kiss, and Harry's surprised but leans into it, since Malfoy's not going to turn into Cho or cry at him. It's ridiculous, being a little husband, having people think you're _married_ , when you're not even done school and all there is to your "marriage" is this burning need to - and Malfoy's so warm. Harry's wondered at that since they started sharing a bed, how Malfoy's body temperature is always much higher than his own. And right now his skin is burning Harry's, it's like he's in the Prefect's bathroom in the large bathtub - without Myrtle - with the water as hot as he can make it, and he wants more. Hermione looks up from her Latin dictionary and raises her eyebrows, a little shocked, and he turns away, needing to feel all of Malfoy's skin against his, their clothing disappearing in a flash, admiring the way Malfoy's hands are so incredibly sensitive and strong, and hungrily taking in the sight of Malfoy's bare body, so pale, looks so cold but the feeling is just - and he's got long, lean muscles that flex over his chest, Seeker's build, it's just...

Harry's tried so hard to not look at him very much, especially since they share a bed and he regularly sees Malfoy wearing very little. He doesn't know when he went from extreme interest in girls' cleavage, once even growing pink when  _Hermione_  noticed him staring at the way her blouse gaped open interestingly, and he'd meant to tell her to button it up-

I never believed that, you know, she smirks at him. Exactly when were you going to tell me?

Somehow sometime in the last few weeks he's lost all interest in cleavage. Now he's got an obsession with Malfoy's lips, his hair, the way he moves, all grace and strength, and fantasizing about what Hannah Abbott's small breasts feel like has ended, and he kind of misses it. It's been replaced by wondering what it would feel like to pull Malfoy close in passion, not just the innocent embrace they regularly fall asleep to. Really feel him against his body, all heat and hard angles, and he can't hold back a moan, this is way too fast but he's so close, Malfoy's arms are pulling him closer, and he's whispering in Harry's ear, things Harry can't really make out because the heat from Malfoy's body - and his own - is kind of overwhelming, what the hell is he DOING, they've become used to touching each other all the time but this is different. He's pushing against Malfoy, rubbing against him and Malfoy's either going to kill him or burn him up. Malfoy's grinding against him too, gasping, hard as a rock, then his hand is - oh god - and what little Harry can hear has something to do with Not even a Death Eater, I wasn't going to, I love you, and besides, the war's over, and Harry draws back, dizzy, and frowns at Malfoy.

You twit, whispers Malfoy urgently, it's been over for years, and I need you, I need you so fucking badly, it's been years, please, and Malfoy's pleading with him, saying things Harry didn't know he could say, so hungry for him it's making Harry lose all ability to breathe or reason, and he can't quite believe what he's doing, he's lying back on the bed and drawing Malfoy on top of him Don't forget what the Healer talked about, Pomfrey tells Malfoy sternly, you're going to need to prepare a little more than that.

God, yes, he's desperate for Malfoy to finally take him, to feel him inside, to seal the bond that's been between them for so long, it's been so many years and Malfoy's on top of him, hands setting him on fire, he's harder than he's ever been and he's begging Malfoy to touch him, so ready to be his, so ready to be - shaken, roughly. And have a blinding light shoved into his eyes.

"Wha?" Harry's eyes snapped open and he stared at Malfoy, not on top of him in the dark but beside him, wearing a t-shirt - wait, what?

"Potter, wake up," Malfoy said roughly. "You're having a wet dream and it's playing hell with my nerves."

A what? Harry tried to catch his breath, trying to figure out why they'd stopped. He - they weren't in their room, they were in the Gryffindor dorm - wait, was  _that_  where they were going to- "Oh. Um... oh," he blinked, slowly detaching reality from a dream that still felt so vivid, so  _there_ , Malfoy whispering all sorts of things into his ear, and he was still  _so_  hard, he was  _so_  close, still burning - he shifted a bit.

"Stop that!" Malfoy said sharply.

"You must be joking," he said weakly, turning onto his stomach and closing his eyes, and if it was possible to feel gratitude from a body part, right now one particular appendage was singing his praises for bringing sweet pressure back. "I can't just slam on the brakes," he whispered, "You've no idea how close-"

"I've a very good idea," Malfoy said tensely, and continued in a voice that was so different from the voice in his dream that Harry started to get dizzy and he clapped a hand over Malfoy's mouth without thinking.

"Shut up," Harry whispered, "I don't care what you do, take care of yourself for all I care, I can't - oh," he bit his lip, his other hand disappearing under the covers, firmly shutting up the part of his mind that popped up to inform him that wanking off in front of Malfoy wasn't something he was terribly comfortable with. Anything, anything, he was comfortable with anything that took the burning away, that brought him closer to sweet release, and it seemed Malfoy was doing the same, gasping and rustling the covers, and Harry could _feel_  his excitement - oh, oh thank  _god_...

OH thank GOD...

Oh...

Oh, shit.

Oh god. What the  _hell_  had that been all about? I love you, the war's over?

Oh god. God and hell and shit and Merlin and Mordred and there weren't swear words enough for how mortified he felt. If Malfoy had picked up any of what he was dreaming...

He was sticky, and shaking, and out of breath and still so bloody hot, and if it was possible to disappear into thin air now would be exactly the right time to do it. He'd once blown up his aunt. And freed a snake. Why did his involuntary magic have to pick right now to deny him the satisfaction of an extreme, hysterical display of power, to take his mind off the extreme embarrassment flooding through him?

Well, he told himself as he tried to steady his breathing, there was at least one positive side to this situation: the day could only get better from here.

**ooooooo**

* Esposito actually means "little husband" in Spanish. Not being a native Latin-speaker, I have no idea whether or not it means the same thing in Latin ;)

**ooooooo**

**ooooooo**

**(Scene 2)** **Day 23, Wednesday**

"Finite incantatum. Now, unless you wish to be expelled immediately, follow me quietly to my office," Dumbledore said, his gentle tone at odds with his stern words. Snape approached with their wands in hand, motioning them towards the door.

Harry swallowed hard and followed them meekly, eyes on the floor as they silently walked past hundreds of staring students and staff in the Great Hall. Feeling paradoxically more frozen than he had felt under the brief immobilizing spell. Registering numbness mixed with dread from Malfoy, silently walking beside him as they left the Great Hall.

Beside him. Inexplicably, the fury and wild hatred towards Malfoy that he'd felt mere moments ago was completely gone, replaced by a bewildering urge to stay as close to him as possible. Because, he realized, they were in this together, both in the deepest of shit, following Dumbledore and McGonagall and Snape to god only knew what punishment. And all the other students, even his closest friends, were back in the Great Hall, and only Malfoy could possibly have any idea of what Harry was going through right now, or any chance of giving him any comfort whatsoever.

Comfort? No, that wasn't the word he was looking for. Understanding or sympathy, maybe.

Blood was still pouring down his face, and he knew there was no point in wiping at it, but he tried anyway. His nose felt broken. The dull ache was the only thing he could really feel, besides Malfoy's fear. He spared Malfoy a quick glance, taking in his ashen features and the trickle of blood down his face - a split lip, from the looks of it, from the solid punch Harry had given him. Harry rubbed his knuckles, noting a few small cuts - probably from Malfoy's teeth. He took a deep breath as they went into the hospital, bracing himself for Madam Pomfrey's reaction.

"Poppy!" McGonagall called out, and Pomfrey looked up from the scroll she was writing on and blanched at the sight before her.

"You're not - did they-" she turned to Snape, who nodded tersely. Pomfrey's eyes widened and her mouth worked for a moment. "How - how  _could_  you?" she said, white with anger as she rose and approached them. "Of all the - what is the  _matter_  with you two?!"

She whipped out her wand, nodding at Malfoy to sit on the nearest bed, and pulled Harry closer, ignoring his gasp of pain at her touch.

"I'll leave their wands in your safe-box, Poppy," Snape told her as she began her examination. "And I'm leaving Mr. Malfoy in your care while I contact his parents."

Harry felt a pang of alarm from Malfoy. "N-no - Professor, please-" Malfoy began, starting to rise.

"Sit down, Draco," Snape snapped at him, in the angriest voice Harry had ever heard him use on Malfoy. "This is not a simple schoolboy fight. This is far too serious not to call your parents." He turned on his heel and stalked out of the hospital wing, his robes billowing behind him.

Harry was suddenly inexplicably reminded of Ginny speculating as to whether or not Snape said to himself "I shall now execute my Billowing Exit" whenever he left a room in that particular fashion. Sternly squashed down completely inappropriate laughter at the memory.

"I'll contact Healer Esposito when I'm done with these two," Pomfrey said to McGonagall as she waved her wand at Harry's face. Harry felt his nose heal with a sharp crack, and cried out in shock and pain. Pomfrey glared at him and jerked her head at the bed, motioning him to take Malfoy's place as she waved Malfoy closer. Harry got the distinct feeling that the unusually painful healing had been deliberate.

He touched his nose gingerly, glancing at Malfoy, who was wincing as Pomfrey waved her wand over his lip, sealing the cut.

"Sit," she barked at him, motioning him over to Harry, and he did so hastily.

Shite, they were in trouble. Really, really big trouble. Harry wasn't quite sure why, but he'd rarely seen either McGonagall or Pomfrey so angry; though both were often annoyed, they seldom went past that. But now... even Dumbledore looked sombre.

"Erm, I'm-" he began, and faltered as the adults all looked at him. He swallowed hard. "We... it was just a fight-"

McGonagall and Pomfrey both began to speak and were waved into silence by Dumbledore.

"No, Harry, it was not," he said quietly. "If you were still simply classmates, this would merely be yet another example of your mutual hostility, and you would no doubt have earned yourselves several detentions and loss of points or privileges." He paused, his blue eyes deadly serious. "You are spouses. You broke bones and damaged school property. If you hadn't been stopped, you would have hexed one another. This is serious."

Harry nodded glumly. Beside him, Malfoy cleared his throat. "May we go change and pick up our things from the Great Hall?" he asked, and his voice, while nervous, sounded remarkably steady and calm, considering the fear Harry could feel bubbling under his cool exterior.

"You're welcome to do any wandless cleaning charms you can, but you're not leaving the hospital," Pomfrey said grimly.

"Your school things will be picked up by house elves," McGonagall added.

They glanced at each other and subsided into silence as the adults bustled about. Remained silent as Esposito, Lupin, and the Malfoys were contacted and a time and place was set for an emergency meeting about their "situation."

Situation, thought Harry. What a nice word to describe how completely and utterly buggered up his life had become.

**ooooooo**

"All right, we're ready to begin," Esposito said, once all were gathered in a small sitting room next to Dumbledore's office. Harry started to stand up and Esposito waved him back to his seat, fixing him with a kind but firm look. "Not you, gentlemen. You are in no shape to contribute to this discussion. We will decide what to do, and you will abide by our decisions. You may as well get comfortable." She gestured around at the small room as the rest of them started to move into Dumbledore's office.

Harry looked from one unyielding face to another and swallowed back his protest. Even Lupin looked grim and determined, though slightly less disappointed in Harry than he'd seemed upon first arrival. Harry sat back down.

Stood up as soon as the adults had left the small room, unable to remain sitting and trying to ignore the crawling sensation on the back of his neck at the knowledge that he was being watched by all the portraits on the walls.

This was bad. This was very, very bad, and he needed to do something about it. He needed to find some solution to this "situation", before he was forced to accept any solution from the adults. He needed to find some way of maintaining control over his life.

He bit back a bitter laugh. What control. He had no control whatsoever. Never mind not being able to attend the meeting going on right now, never mind having to submit to whatever the adults decided at that meeting. Since that miserable day in September he'd lost practically all control over everything in his life: who he spent his time with, where he lived, what he felt...

Small snippets of the conversation in Dumbledore's office kept popping up every so often as he paced. "I think that's going a little too far," McGonagall could be heard saying at one point, but the reply was too soft for Harry to hear.

He swallowed hard, torn between wanting to try to figure his way out of this mess and not wanting to even think about it. Wanting to pretend that all they were discussing in Dumbledore's office was what kind of detention to give them, and for how long. Maybe calling Filch in to see what unpleasant tasks he needed help with. Scrubbing toilets. Dealing with Mrs. Norris' cat litter.

He swallowed again, pacing restlessly and trying to ignore the whispering portraits keeping an eye on them, ready to report to the adults if he or Malfoy tried anything.

They weren't going to get detentions. What had happened had happened because they were both far too tense to be able to deal with each other rationally, and that tension was there because they weren't doing what the bond wanted them to do. The easiest way to make the tension go away was to give in to the bond, and the easiest way to do that was to...

God, what would that be like? To have a potion forced down his throat, feel his attraction to Malfoy get out of his control, make him touch Malfoy and pull him closer and let him-

Damn it, he was getting hard. He didn't want this, his whole being rebelled against it, he wanted to keep fighting it with all his strength... but part of him actually wanted to be forced into taking whatever would do the trick. Because he'd  _have_  to, then. He wouldn't have a choice any more, he wouldn't be able to fight it, he would have to surrender. And his surrender would be compelled, but it wouldn't be rape, because he'd want it...

Besides, what would happen after that was going to happen anyway. As sure as the sun came up in the morning, as sure as Hermione could be counted on to quote  _Hogwarts: A History_  at inappropriate times, he was going to have sex with Draco Malfoy eventually. The only thing he had any control over was when it happened and how, and he was shortly going to lose even that.

"There is no need to-" Harry heard Lupin's voice, but was unable to hear the rest of the sentence over the whispering of the portraits.

Malfoy probably wouldn't give a damn, Harry thought as he spared him a resentful glance. Malfoy was probably hoping for exactly that: a potion force-fed to Harry so that Harry would stop fighting him. Malfoy was probably even looking forward to it.

Except he wasn't, Harry realized. He was sitting on the couch, face paler than usual, deeply, deeply scared and trying very hard not to show it.

Harry closed his eyes, attempting to sort out Malfoy's feelings.

Fear. Dread. Nothing else.

"This is impossible. They are impossible," Snape said, and Harry didn't know whether to be relieved or deeply disturbed that even Snape apparently thought Harry wasn't the only problem here.

He glanced at Malfoy again. Stopped pacing and tried to sort himself out.

All right. Malfoy was in this with him; not only in the same deep shit as Harry, but also just as scared of whatever was going on behind the closed door. And Harry probably couldn't come up with any way to convince the adults to just let them be, but maybe if he and Malfoy worked together, they could come up with something. Malfoy was a rather unlikely ally, but he would probably be easier to work with than the band of adults in the other room.

Harry took a deep breath.

"Malfoy," he said, and cursed the unsteadiness of his voice. Malfoy looked up warily, and Harry cleared his throat. "We're in trouble, aren't we?"

"Brilliant powers of observation, Potter," Malfoy said tiredly, and Harry found the lack of fire in his sneer rather alarming. "What was your first hint?"

"What-" Harry stopped, cleared his throat again. "What do you think they'll decide?"

"No clue."

"I... I have a feeling I won't like it."

"I doubt I will either," Malfoy said. "I'm not sure they can decide anything, though. We are both adults."

"They may not be able to force us to do anything, but they can make things difficult for us if we don't obey. We could be expelled. Or disowned or something, in your case."

"My father wouldn't disown me."

"Really? What would he do instead?" Malfoy frowned and Harry decided to cut to the chase as quickly as possible. "Malfoy... what could he do to you, that makes you so afraid of him?"

"I'm not afraid of him," Malfoy said quickly.

"Bollocks," Harry shot back. "You are. You're not all that concerned about what Dumbledore or anybody else at school might do, but you're terrified of the fact that your father is in there with them."

"Does the bond now include Legilimency for you? No? Then don't presume to tell me how I'm feeling and why."

"I don't need Legilimency. I know how you feel, and it's the same way you felt that day in the hospital when you contradicted him in public. You nearly had a heart attack."

"We'd just been through a lot of stress-"

"Nothing to do with it," Harry stated. "You were afraid of him."

Malfoy bit his lip and Harry was suddenly unsure whether pushing him more would only serve to antagonize him, or whether backing off would only give him time to retreat and refuse to talk. He tried to reach out through the bond, trying to figure out what Malfoy was feeling. Quickly gave up, as there were too many conflicting emotions to make sense of them.

Finally Malfoy swallowed and spoke up. "Do you have a point, Potter?"

OK, good. At least he was willing to listen. "I don't want to just do whatever they say," Harry began.

"Neither do I. We don't exactly have a choice, though, do we?"

Harry took a deep breath. "We're not handling this terribly well."

"Once again, your powers of detecting the thoroughly obvious-"

"Shut up," Harry said impatiently. "We're under pressure from everybody and from ourselves, and even though you're taking a patience potion, it's not enough to cope with how you feel about me or my friends, and your school work on top of that."

"Thank you, Potter. I never would have reached those conclusions on my own-"

"And I can't handle how I feel about you, I hate the way you treat me and my friends and how fucked up your entire worldview is, and I'm sick of being on display for everyone at school to talk about, and..." Harry gathered himself and made himself finish, feeling like he was stepping off a cliff. "And, and I'm fucking terrified of letting you get close to me, or letting myself get close to you."

Malfoy's mouth dropped open. They stared at each other, and Harry made himself maintain eye contact despite the crawling sensation of having extended his trust to someone so untrustworthy, even on something as relatively small as admitting one of his fears.

Finally Malfoy cleared his throat. "All right," he said slowly. "I take it you do have a point, then? What is it?"

"We need to work things out, between the two of us."

"We've tried."

"No, we haven't. We've been existing next to each other and trying to muddle through and accepting advice every so often from other people. We haven't talked much at all."

"We did this morning."

"Did a pretty good job of it, too," Harry pointed out, and was a bit startled as a small smile quirked Malfoy's mouth.

"Yeah, we did," said Malfoy.

"So it is possible. For us to work things out, I mean."

"I suppose so," Malfoy said sceptically.

"So let's try. Do you want to drop out of classes?"

"No." There was a long pause. "I don't. But we're not getting any useful learning right now. I can barely concentrate long enough to write my name on a piece of parchment."

Harry smiled ruefully. "I know the feeling. I keep feeling like I have to fight to clear my head all the time, because if I don't-" he stopped. Damn, this was not where he wanted to take this conversation. He sent a firm reprimand in the direction of his pants. "Well, you can probably guess what I end up thinking about," he muttered.

"Probably," Malfoy said dryly.

Harry drew in a deep breath, moved closer to Malfoy. "How I feel - how we both feel - it's so bloody wrong."

"Why? It's just sexual attraction. Don't tell me you've never felt that before."

"Not this badly."

"Why is that so wrong?"

"Because I don't want to feel this. We don't love each other. We don't even like each other. I don't want to-"

Malfoy rolled his eyes, cutting him off. "Potter, we're seventeen. Love and like don't have to enter the equation when it comes to sex."

"I'm scared," Harry blurted, wincing but forcing himself to not withdraw. Better to talk about this with Malfoy than with his father.

"Of what?" Malfoy asked, and Harry took heart from the fact that he hadn't immediately mocked Harry for admitting his fear.

"Getting hurt."

"You're getting hurt right now," Malfoy pointed out. "I almost hexed you into next year a few hours ago. We weren't going to do anything like a Giggle Spell or turn each other green; we were both going to do serious damage. You're miserable, and so am I. How could having sex be worse than all of this?"

Harry shrugged. "Fear of the unknown, I suppose."

"Out of curiosity, what do you think they're going to decide in there?"

"To give me some potion or something to - to make me not fight this any more," Harry felt his face heating and turned away.

"Potter..." Harry started as he felt Malfoy put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Why would that be the end of the world?"

"Because, because then I wouldn't have any control over anything-"

"You don't have much control now-"

"I don't  _want_  to-" Harry started to move away, but Malfoy held on.

"They may not, you know," Malfoy said, almost gently, and Harry shivered, crossing his arms defensively. "Potter. You're panicking again," said Malfoy, and Harry felt, like a physical touch, Malfoy projecting calm at him.

Which was all right, he told himself. This was one of the only good things about the bond. He could certainly take advantage of Malfoy's clearer head over this part of their dilemma, if it helped him feel steadier and helped them work together.

They could talk this out, decide what to do, how to make sure the adults didn't push them into doing anything they didn't want to do. Maybe give them more time to work together, give them another chance - or rather, give  _him_  another chance - to do this on his own schedule. Malfoy had said before that he didn't want Harry under some potion. Maybe Harry could capitalise on that, help Malfoy stand against his father, if need be.

He absently covered Malfoy's hand with his own as he tried to steady himself, hardly aware of what he was doing, and then... oh, no, that had been a bad idea, because Malfoy... he was warm, Malfoy was always so warm, so damned  _alive_  and he... pulled at Harry somehow. His presence was no better than a potion, really, drawing him to Malfoy, making Harry want what he shouldn't want - what he  _didn't_  want, damn it, despite the fact that he was somehow drawing closer to Malfoy.

And his presence did the same thing to Malfoy. Even Malfoy's fear right now couldn't dampen his attraction to Harry, his longing to get closer, touch, feel.

And Harry felt the same way, which wasn't right, but it was so hard to hold back, to go against what his body wanted. And... and holding back hadn't gotten them anywhere so far. Other than here, in Dumbledore's office, while the adults decided their future and the portraits gossiped about them.

And right now Harry was too tired and scared and defeated to keep fighting this. He  _couldn't_  fight it all the time, he would go with it for just a moment - just a moment, then he would pull back and they would continue to talk and come to some sort of agreement, but for now, this was what he needed the most and he couldn't have stopped if Voldemort himself had stepped in front of him right now.

Yes...

Harry drew closer. He could feel Malfoy's heart racing, could feel just how desperately Malfoy wanted this, but he was hanging on by a thread and refusing to let himself move. Which was paradoxically comforting and frustrating, because as much as Harry wanted to do this on his own time, it was awfully difficult to take that first step. Their hands were clasped together and he could feel Malfoy's breath, and as Harry looked down and rested his forehead against him Malfoy gasped, startling Harry. He looked up slowly, almost dream-like, gazing into Malfoy's grey eyes, drawing his hand up Malfoy's arm, to his cheek, unable to breathe as Malfoy closed his eyes and leaned into his touch, overwhelming Harry with his inner turmoil, with the feel of him trembling at Harry's touch.

Malfoy was finally moving, very carefully drawing Harry closer, and Harry tried so hard not to shake, but it was almost impossible. It was too much. Malfoy's breathing was laboured, his eyes clouded and unlike Harry had ever seen them. No mocking or superiority, just knife-edged desire and intense anticipation.

"Oh god," Harry heard a low voice say, barely recognizing it as his own, as he hesitantly touched Malfoy's hair, the back of his neck - so soft, so warm, were boys supposed to feel like this? Was he supposed to want to touch him more, want to kiss him? What would happen if he tried to, and Malfoy laughed at him? He moved forward tentatively until their bodies were touching very slightly, noting without much surprise that Malfoy was as hard as he was and slightly confused as Malfoy stepped back a bit. Not because he was offended or because he didn't want to touch Harry, but because he was...

Harry suppressed a laugh. "Don't know quite what to do now, do you?"

Malfoy looked sheepish. "Er... no."

"And I thought I was the inexperienced one," Harry said, drawing his hand over Malfoy's cheek and watching Malfoy sigh and close his eyes and pull them close together, which was extremely - well, it wasn't unpleasant at all.

It was the exact opposite, actually. Malfoy's eyes were still closed, giving Harry the chance to watch him without awkwardness, let his fingers caress Malfoy's neck, yes, his hair really was that silky, and Malfoy dropped his head back, sighing softly.

"That's OK?" Harry asked quietly, and watched a shiver run through Malfoy, watched his pulse beating wildly in his throat. Malfoy brought a hand to Harry's face and he leaned into it, impulsively kissing Malfoy's palm, startling a bit as Malfoy pulled back - damn, that had been the wrong thing to do, apparently-

"No, don't stop, that was - um, don't stop-" Malfoy murmured, and they were so close he could feel the other boy's breath on his face.

They both wanted this, so damned much. With every fibre of their being, they both needed it. Malfoy moved forward, so very slightly, and Harry drew in his breath as their emotions spiralled out of control - and he bridged the last tiny distance between their mouths and hesitantly touched his lips to Malfoy's.

Soft. Soft, and warm, god oh god, he'd had no idea it would feel like this. Malfoy's lips were the most amazing thing he'd ever felt in his life. Dimly part of his brain popped up to tell him that wasn't possible, and even if it was, it was wrong, but that part of his brain was remarkably easy to ignore. He let out a soft sigh as Malfoy moved a bit, brushing against him. Harry tentatively parted his lips and felt the tip of Malfoy's tongue barely touching his lips, and he moved to touch Malfoy's tongue with his own.

_God_ , that felt good - he made a sound in his throat, kissing Malfoy with a bit more confidence, pulling him closer, more determined, wanting so much more...

And then he was lost. Like his first time flying, every emotion so powerful and scary and wonderful and overwhelming.

Nothing but sensation, nothing but bliss. Lips and tongues moving together, Malfoy's long, lean muscles under Harry's hands, their hearts beating together, Malfoy's scent overwhelming him, Malfoy's fingers moving through his hair and sending shivers down Harry's back. Making him hard as a rock - and Malfoy was too, Harry could feel hard heat pressing against him, sending sparks through him, and if they could just keep doing this forever and never let go, Harry would try to track down whoever cast the curse and send them flowers - which probably made no sense logistically, he realized, but really, who cared.

God, it was like every wet dream he'd had in weeks was coming true, and was even better than what he'd imagined. He hadn't dreamt of the rightness of Malfoy's arms around him, the small sounds their lips made as they moved together, the heat from Malfoy's tongue, the tremors coursing through Malfoy feeling so erotic and intense for Harry as well. The gratification of knowing that he was the one making Malfoy lose himself like this, the one overwhelming Malfoy with excitement and pleasure.

God, yes...

God, this was...

Um. This was getting a little...

... a  _little_  too hot for Dumbledore's sitting room.

"Um." Harry broke their kiss, pulled away briefly. "We should, we should probably-" Malfoy's fingers tightened on the back of his neck and he came back to Malfoy's mouth, unable to stop a small moan, which turned into a groan as Malfoy pulled back.

"Yeah, we should," Malfoy whispered, his eyes still closed. "We should - um," Harry smiled as Malfoy pulled him in for another kiss, breathlessly adding "we need to st-" before Harry covered his mouth again, allowing himself one last deep kiss before reluctantly pushing himself away.

"No, no, we have to-" He gasped put one hand on Malfoy's chest, pushing him back gently. God, how completely frustrating - more so because he could feel Malfoy's frustration as well as his own, and they were both so tightly wound it was rather agonizing. He put his forehead against Malfoy's shoulder, barely restraining himself from saying to hell with it and going right back to snogging him. "God, I'd no idea stopping would be this um, hard," he muttered, and Malfoy chuckled.

"Um, yeah. That part's never fun."

"Oh good," Esposito's cheerful voice broke through the haze and Harry nearly had a heart attack. She chuckled at their startled reaction. "I thought you were never going to come up for air."


	4. Extra Scenes #2, Chapters 11-12, Will the Real Lucius Malfoy Please Stand Up

**Day 38, Thursday, November 5, Lucius,**   _"I am Lucius Malfoy and I join my magic to yours."_

**_Author Notes:_ ** _Calíope Amphora plopped this plotbunny onto my screen, and I couldn't wipe it off no matter how much Windex I used:_

Everybody loved the healing circle. People said they would love to know how it was from somebody else's point of view. A few suggestions: Snape; Narcissa; Esposito or Lucius. (I vote for Lucius!! *fangirl moment*)

_Thanks to Calíope, old_enough, Anita and dumby's baby for encouragement and beta :)_

**Day 38, Thursday**

The healing circles gathered around Draco and Potter, who lay unconscious in the middle of the room. Lucius took his place in the outer circle, between the bushy-haired Muggle-born and the threadbare werewolf, facing - and about to be partnered with - one of Arthur Weasley's numerous vacant-eyed offspring.

He glanced at the centre of the circle, his view of Draco obstructed by Pomfrey but his view of Potter clear. Harry Potter, the little brat who had been gracelessly defeating the most powerful wizard in the world since babyhood. Luck and the skills of others had saved him time and time again, triumphing against the Dark Lord's brilliance and power. The urge to cast one swift, deadly curse felt like a low burn deep inside Lucius.

If he could only give in to it now, the Dark Lord could rise again.

If he could only think of Potter, and how much he hated him, he could keep his fear for Draco's life from becoming unmanageable.

The spell began and Lucius watched impassively as the three 'neutral' members of the inside circle linked their magic together. Soft lights glowing from all three wands, Esposito's, Pomfrey's and Dumbledore's, slowly coming together and mixing in the middle.

Dumbledore, neutral. The idea would have been laughable if the situation weren't so serious. Serious and infuriating, having to stand near the man without harming him. One of the few things that had kept Lucius warm at nights in Azkaban had been the thought of Dumbledore dead or on his knees before the Dark Lord, his corruption of the wizarding world stopped, and the Malfoys back to where they should be. And here was Lucius, wand in hand, a clear shot at Dumbledore, with Dumbledore's mind and magic fully absorbed by the circle... and Lucius couldn't do a thing but look at Healer Esposito instead in order to not go mad at the thought of his own powerlessness.

Focussing on Esposito instead wasn't terribly soothing either. Not with his seething resentment at the way she had stubbornly refused to consider almost every alternative his Healers had suggested. 'Unethical,' she had said. And 'impractical' and 'possibly dangerous' and 'morally suspect,' she had said, while Draco's life hung in the balance.

The steady Latin incantations from the three in the inner circle seemed adequate to what they were trying to do, repeating the balancing purpose of the spell itself, and they provided a welcome distraction for Lucius as the inner circle brought them all closer to the moment when all of Lucius' careful planning, all his hard work, would be undone. Damn Dumbledore, damn Esposito and Pomfrey by backing him up, damn even Draco for choosing to stay here instead of going to Lucius' Healers in the first place-

No. Draco was ill. Draco hadn't known what he was doing, he wasn't responsible for his decision.

In his condition, Draco wasn't to blame for choosing to trust Esposito more than Lucius' unknown Healers just because those unknown Healers worked for their family. He certainly couldn't be expected to see that Esposito, for all her supposed expertise as a Bonding Spells specialist, was just an old quack with no real backbone, and a disgrace to Slytherin house. As if any self-respecting Slytherin would ever try a solution this stupid when there were perfectly workable alternatives that hadn't even been tested.

At least she was a Slytherin, though. Which gave the circle some sort of balance. Six Gryffindors, six Slytherins, and Pomfrey as the lone Ravenclaw.

He was fixing on irrelevancies like school houses, he realized as inner circle's light grew and steadied. Desperately trying to ignore what was happening. Because it  _was_  happening, but he still didn't want to believe it. They were all gathered, and the magic was rising, waiting to draw all of them in, but it felt dreamlike, far away. As though they couldn't really be here, couldn't really be about to do this, such a mismatched group of people, such an unreal situation.

Such a completely unpredictable situation, too. No idea whether the spell would work, no idea whether his son would live or die, no idea what would happen to their family even if this worked. Or what would happen to Draco himself; with the bond having turned Draco into such an obvious liability for Potter, it was only Lucius' loyalty to the Dark Lord that gave Draco any protection at all, and the Dark Lord would be furious at Lucius' outright betrayal. And the easiest way for him to get revenge on Lucius would be to strike him where he was most vulnerable...

The same vulnerability as Harry Potter. There were no words for how much he loathed that boy. There were no words for his rage and bitterness at his own helplessness, no more control over what was going to happen than the lowest Muggle.

He swallowed as the inner circle steadied and the outer began to build.

"I am Hermione Granger and I join my magic to yours," said the Muggle-born, and her light joined the inner circle.

Lucius chewed on his lip, his mind racing despite his every effort to settle it. Every name like a bell tolling for the end of all that he had worked to build, for so many years. Or like a clock, ticking inexorably closer to the end of the future he had envisioned for himself and his family.

Hermione Granger, whose very presence at this school was an outrage.

Pansy Parkinson, a fine pureblooded girl from a good family, who should be disowned for what she was about to do.

Minerva McGonagall, still the same stubborn humorless old bat she had been since Lucius' own schoolboy days.

Blaise Zabini, son of a beautiful and deadly mother who was, thank Merlin, politically neutral, but who might expect hefty repayment or redress from the Malfoys for her son's actions.

Ronald Weasley, a fitting offspring to his ridiculous, pathetic father, by Draco's reports at least.

Narcissa Malfoy. Yet another person he wanted to hex, as he seldom had in all their years together, for backing their family into this corner. For not helping him convince Draco to leave this foul place. For going against all they believed in, working with their enemies, and helping to create the very spell that would put the Malfoys squarely against the Dark Lord.

The magic was drawing closer like a noose around his neck as his wife's wandlight connected to that of the Muggle-born next to Lucius.

He would have time to deal with the fallout later, he tried to reassure himself. The Malfoys had fallen before and risen again, under his leadership. They would do so again.

Neville Longbottom was now joining the circle, an embarrassment to purebloods everywhere, linked to Pansy Parkinson.

Severus Snape, his friend and ally, joined to McGonagall.

Remus Lupin, and now Lucretia Zabini's lovely son was connected to the werewolf.

And Lucius was out of time.

"I am Lucius Malfoy and I join my magic to yours," he said evenly as Weasley's magic reached out to his, and he braced himself to take this probably irrevocable step. For the sake of his son, who failed him constantly, who disappointed him almost as often as he breathed, who was so unworthy to inherit anything. For whom Lucius now had to give up everything, so that he could bequeath him nothing.

For his son, who had again made the wrong choice, choosing to be here, with Potter, not clever or brave enough to leave when offered a chance to try to work with the Healers Lucius had hired. That was who Lucius was giving everything up for, that was who would be his downfall in the end, his own son.

No, not Draco. Draco was innocent and couldn't be held responsible for any of this.

Dumbledore, though, and Potter...

If he could only lash out at them, just once. Take down Dumbledore, destroy Potter as he should've been destroyed sixteen years ago, do  _something_  other than allow his fate and the fate of his family to be aligned with either of them.

Just once, he thought as he felt Weasley straining to pull him into the circle. Just once, to let go and give in to that hatred. And not join in this travesty of a healing circle, not let go of all he had worked for, for something that most probably wouldn't even work. Just once...

Esposito moved the inner circle slightly, and Lucius' gaze fell on the two unconscious boys.

Draco slept, his eyes shadowed, face even paler than normal. Sharp features made sharper by his illness, his proximity to death. Features that had once been rounded and soft, eyes closed that were so expressive when open, so unlike a proper Malfoy, and so often marked by sullenness or ineffectual defiance...

And humour, and unexpected intelligence, and love. Eyes that had trusted him so often; eyes that had owned Lucius from the first time he'd opened them. Eyes that he couldn't see closed forever.

He took a deep breath, gave in to the pull from the Weasley boy, and joined his magic to the circle.

There had never been a choice. It had been foolish to think otherwise.

"We call upon joy and upon sorrow," said Esposito, and Lucius braced himself, calling to mind his best and worst memories. Surprised when, despite his earlier plan to think of the day he learned he'd been appointed to the International Warlock's Council, a memory of picking up Draco and spinning him around came to mind instead.

Foolish image. He started to replace it with his planned memory, but that memory eluded him. He gave a mental shrug and decided to go with it. After all, the members of the circle had all been told that, while it was a good idea for them to think about what memories to use for each pairing, it would probably be even more effective to simply use whatever surfaced in their minds during the spell casting itself.

Joy, and Draco, his high, childish laughter, grey eyes wide and with delight, Narcissa smiling indulgently at them both, her blue eyes softened from their usual cool detachment. Warmth and an unexpected sense of accomplishment at bringing such happiness to his son. Knowing that without even trying, he could affect another human being so deeply. Feeling inexplicably humbled at the realization that he was his little boy's hero.

That was probably enough, and he set the image aside firmly.

Sorrow was easy: Azkaban. Greyness and failure and bitterness and fear, there was no need to reach any farther than that for his worst sorrow. Let the Weasley whelp see it and gloat, he didn't much care. Whatever blocked out the brat's silly little sorrows - learning Cedric Diggory had died, that was his greatest sorrow, was it? And telling his Muggle-born friend that he loved her was his greatest joy? How pathetic.

Lucius shook his head, slightly irate as the leakage of images from other circle members flitted past the edges of his consciousness. Indistinct and nebulous but persistent, defying his attempts to block them out completely. A young Slytherin girl holding a Quidditch Cup high - Esposito, surely. If only Draco had known that kind of accomplishment; but no, Potter had snatched it away from him every single year, in one way or another.

Speaking of Potter - there he was, lying and mourning somebody, Narcissa's blood-traitor fool of a cousin, apparently. Lucius briefly regretted not having the freedom to allow himself to gloat properly at the image. His own memory of the time right after the Department of Mysteries was hideous enough; it was nice to see the Potter brat had suffered as well.

A sniveling child, hiding in the dark, Longbottom no doubt, and Lucius' lip curled in a sneer. Except... no, the child was - his heart gave a lurch.

He swallowed as the image of Draco cried and drew in on himself, shivering and angry with himself for his weakness, for his failure, for disappointing Lucius.

God, Draco.

It had been the right thing to do, he told himself, though the image didn't provide him with any insight into why Draco had been hiding from him. Whatever had happened that day, it had been the right thing to do, because Draco had needed to learn discipline and strength. It had hurt Draco, and it hurt Lucius to see it, but pain was sometimes necessary and could be a powerful tool for greater good. He did Draco no favours if he didn't have the strength to hurt him when Draco needed instruction or correction. Suffering built character.

"We call upon light and upon dark," Pomfrey said, and Lucius brought to mind the Encandesca spell he'd learned a few years ago. A difficult spell, meant to turn night into day. He recalled a pitch-black field in Surrey lighting up brilliantly. Muggles had ugly, crass lights that feebly lit their streets at night. Encandesca was the light of day.

Dark was the dungeon of Malfoy Manor, where Lucius often went to meditate and practice difficult spells. The dark was comforting in its own way, a counterpoint to light. Strange how the Dark was so feared by weak fools, who didn't understand that facing it and embracing it and bending it to your will was what power was all about.

The Weasley idiot remembered the darkness of a storage shed, probably in whatever filthy pit the Weasleys lived in.

A small, ugly child huddled in the dark while a man and a woman screamed at each other. Lucius recognized the woman as Severus' mother and tactfully turned away.

Draco and Potter, sleeping in each other's arms, Potter nestled into the curve of Draco's neck, Draco's white hair contrasting with Potter's black, who knew where that image came from. Lucius turned away in distaste at the peace and contentment the image showed.

Parkinson's daughter was thinking of a Lumos spell, and the werewolf appeared to be thinking of the full moon as both light and dark, which was intriguing. He wondered briefly at the man's fear of his monthly transformation. Rather a waste. Fenrir Greyback dealt with his own condition much more practically; obviously he was barred from civilized society, but he accepted the power of his condition and used it, unlike this shabby unfortunate.

"We call upon male and upon female," Esposito said, and Lucius noted that most of the others had images of parents and spouses. Arthur Weasley, how charming. And he wasn't entirely sure if Weasley Jr. thinking of Granger was more or less distasteful than thinking of his frumpy mother would have been. Though at least she apparently cleaned up rather nicely; that memory had to be from the Yule Ball held during the year of the Triwizard Tournament. Pity about the teeth.

Lucretia Zabini flashed past in a disturbing flicker, and Lucius almost laughed out loud as the image of Randolph Keitch, the famous Beater for Falmouth, and a very young McGonagall gazing at him in adoration.

Concentrate, he told himself, and conjured the image of his father. Cold, stern, and strong; a worthy role model for anybody. And Narcissa, the epitome of all that was feminine grace and refinement.

"We call upon past and upon future," said Dumbledore. Lucius sent his mind back as far as it could go, to his grandfather's death, and wondered briefly if it was Draco or Pansy who was remembering a long-ago fight between the two. Lucius remembered only the shrieks that had burst from the nursery, the harried expressions of the house elves as they separated the purple-faced toddlers, and Owen Parkinson noting dryly that they'd best start punishing the house-elves out of Pansy's sight, as she was learning a few curses that were best not mentioned outside their social circle. Precocious little tyke, she'd been.

A much younger Dumbledore on a stairwell spoke to a student, and Lucius sneered in disdain before he suddenly drew in his breath, recognizing the student. The Dark Lord. He hastily drew his mind away.

The future was going to be dicey, but he forced the image of the Dark Lord aside and focused his mind on whatever happened to filter through from the three near-Seers. Indistinct laughter, a shadowy hallway, a teasing look met by - Lucius swallowed as he recognized Draco's smile, so seldom seen.

Draco would live, then.

Unless Lucius was misinterpreting that glimpse of the future, and it was just someone who looked like Draco. Already the unclear vision was fading, slipping through his fingers, and he doubted what he'd seen.

A Dark Mark bloomed in the sky.

That one was less difficult to misinterpret, and he laughed inwardly at Ron Weasley's instinctive recoil before once more taking control of his thoughts and clearing his mind for the next pairing.

"We call upon pain and upon pleasure," said Pomfrey.

Pain was easy, though Lucius wasn't terribly eager to call up that memory yet. Pleasure, however... there was pleasure in fine wine, in power, in literature, and Lucius had contemplated thinking of any of those, especially as he would be tied to Weasley during the spell. But the images and memories he conjured had to be powerful and wine would not do it.

Narcissa's labour flashed past his consciousness; Weasley's leg snapped from the force of a huge dog's powerful jaws; a werewolf ran through the woods with a stag and a large black dog.

He had planned on remembering his own pleasure at mastering Unplottable spells, some of the most difficult he had ever attempted. The feeling of his father's rare pride in him, his father's sureness that the family would be in good hands once he passed away. But that probably wouldn't be enough either. The images coming from the other members of the circle all seemed rather more intense than that.

He winced in distaste as his son and Potter hesitantly touched their lips together for the first time in Dumbledore's outer sitting room. It had been bad enough, that day, to witness that event secondhand. Seeing the amusement on the faces of the Healer and Dumbledore - and even Severus - as they detected activity from the boys' bond spell, then informed the rest of them what was going on in the small sitting room. This was nothing he wanted to witness firsthand, even as a memory.

He turned away, only to be shocked to find the two boys again, far more involved - he flinched almost physically at what they were doing, then sternly pushed his embarrassment away and took amused comfort in Weasley's squeamish mental whimper at the scene.

It still wasn't something he wanted to see, so he concentrated on his own worst memory of pain in order to blot it out. Felt the burn of the Mark going onto his skin and heard again his own cries at the agony that had overwhelmed him. Forced himself to relive the experience instead of pushing it away automatically, as he had done every time the memory welled up in the last twenty years. Felt vindictive pleasure as Weasley flinched at that as well.

And suddenly, unbidden, came a memory of pleasure to replace the pain: a miniature face, wispy white hair still damp from birth, cloudy grey eyes opening for the first time and gazing up at Narcissa before scrunching shut again as the impossibly small pink mouth opened in a weak wail of hunger. Lucius felt a tiny hand grip his finger firmly and a completely unexpected thrill shot through him.

He'd expected pride. He'd expected satisfaction, at having successfully brought a Malfoy heir into the world. He hadn't expected the rush of love and devotion he felt towards this ridiculously small creature, who had done nothing to earn either feeling. It had felt uncomfortable then, and it felt uncomfortable now, but he supposed it would do for the purposes of this spell.

"We call upon heat and upon cold," said Esposito, and Lucius breathed a sigh of relief as he recalled the heat of a Muggle-born Auror's house burning to the ground, and the satisfaction of knowing that she would never track down another Death Eater again.

Weasley was remembering a Dementor sucking all of the heat from a compartment on the Hogwarts Express, but for Lucius, cold was a cell in Azkaban. Apparently cold was Azkaban for Narcissa as well: a small courtyard where she waited, shivering, to be allowed inside by the arrogant guards who delighted in showing their contempt for her, for Lucius, for everything they stood for.

At least the guards had been human, Lucius thought with grim satisfaction. No Dementors left on the island by the time Lucius had arrived there; they had all been recruited by the Dark Lord.

"We call upon love and upon hate," Dumbledore said, and the tension in the circle spiked sharply.

Love and hate. As well ask this group to define itself.

Lucius concentrated and thought of Narcissa, of Draco, of his mother. He didn't bother to suppress a sneer as a blur of ginger hair and vacant freckled Weasley faces flickered past his consciousness, along with a brief flash of bushy brown hair and that famous scar. Confusing images of Parkinsons went past, and then various students - dimly he recognized himself as a child with his arm in a sling, and didn't have time to wonder whose image that was - and an odd flash of... something, a young man who looked familiar, walking out of a classroom - but there wasn't time to figure it out, the feelings were flowing too fast and strong, and he braced himself to concentrate on this next part, undoubtedly the most difficult part of the spell.

Hatred. It was far too easy to feel, and they all knew they would have to control it if they didn't want it to get out of hand.

It was such a pure feeling, though. Seductive, addictive, clean and bright. Hatred for those who opposed them, for those who weakened them. And it was so hard to keep enough control to stop himself from focusing that powerful emotion on people who were part of this circle. Instead he thought as hard as he could of Peter Pettigrew, that loathsome little maggot whom they had to allow into their midst. Thought of Mad-Eye Moody and his rabid anti-Dark mania that had made it so difficult for Lucius to stay out of Azkaban sixteen years ago, and get out of Azkaban last year. Thought of the supercilious Aurors who had taken such delight in humiliating him and laughing at his helplessness while he was in a cell, so small and cold and dark, so - so much like a small room under a set of stairs... with a shock Lucius recognized a small version of Potter, recognized hatred boiling up out of Potter, towards... his Muggle relatives?

Lucius shook his head, distracted, started to back away, but then Potter's hatred focused on Severus - and Severus was hating him back - and there was a new intensity to it, as Severus and Potter's hatred started to boil up dangerously, and was joined by - Lucius flinched as Weasley's hate joined Potter's, and he felt the brat's hatred focus on him, the connection between them making Weasley's emotions more powerful than anybody else's and it was insupportable, that Weasley in his rage would remind Lucius of one of his worst failures: Weasley's dirty-faced little sister, who hadn't managed to do what she was supposed to with the Dark Lord's journal, but had instead managed to pull Potter into that situation and ruin everything. And Weasley didn't even have the brains or pureblood pride to understand that it was his own behaviour, and that of his parents, that made them the enemy and thus acceptable targets to Lucius. Taking  _pride_  in their corruption of the wizarding world, taking pride in their disgraceful poverty and blood traitor's ways, and he wanted them all dead, Weasley and his father and his sister and all their pestilent relations, and all those like him, like Longbottom and his pathetic parents, and Potter and his pathetic little friends, and the anger and hatred were growing, flames of contempt and disgust rising up from Parkinson's daughter towards Longbottom too, and from Longbottom and the Mudblood and Severus and from Draco, hating Potter with a passion, Potter hating him back, drawing the hatred to new heights, and there was enough hatred now in Lucius to let fly a dozen Avada Kedavras, to immolate Potter and all of his ilk, and free Draco from them and from this horrible curse - free  _all_  of them from the curse that was Dumbledore and all of his blood traitor ideas and allies, the rage and hatred and fury crackling out of control, Potter's hatred for all of them ready to erupt and by god Lucius was going to make him pay, if it was the last thing he did he was going to kill Potter, and he gathered his hatred to focus it-

**"NO!"**

Lucius almost growled in rage at the distraction, not recognizing the voice crying out, not stopping, not - and then he was being pulled, there was no other way to describe it, if it had been physical he would've said somebody just grabbed him and pulled him back from Potter, but it wasn't that, it was somebody blocking his mind, trying to block his hatred - it didn't matter who, he would shatter them and get past and kill the Boy Who Lived-

More voices joining the first, and Lucius dimly recognized Ronald Weasley's magic pulling at his own - the boy was strong, he had to give him that, and fierce as he held on tenaciously, but Lucius could bat him away with just a - except that  _Severus_  had joined him, pulling Lucius back too, Lucius inwardly burned with rage at this betrayal, and he could probably fight Severus too except that now Severus was joined by Dumbledore and McGonagall and Parkinson's daughter and Narcissa-

Lines of angry magic were crackling over Draco and Potter

Oh god

The two boys were locked in a desperate hateful embrace and they were going to kill each other

Potter struck Draco, splattered him with mud, Draco mocked Potter, wished him dead

The magic was out of control was going to kill his son if it wasn't stopped it came from them and through them and drew its power from Lucius' hatred, from all of their hatred

It was going to destroy his son

Draco could already be damaged beyond repair, burned alive by the force of malevolent magic that had just been pouring out of all of them in the last few minutes

Draco broke Potter's nose, Potter shattered a window above Draco and screamed in fury

Lucius felt suspended in mid-air, watching in horror as Draco and Potter sank deeper into hatred and the others vainly tried to bring their fire under control, Severus and Lupin and Pomfrey and Zabini and Granger and Pansy and Weasley pushing memories towards them, Draco loaning Potter some ink, Potter smiling at Draco, images of peace and whatever affection his son and his spouse had managed to find for each other

Draco tried to hex Potter on the train

Lucius finally moved, desperately trying to call to mind what little he had, an image of Draco and his spouse resting together in the hospital wing after they'd collapsed, images from earlier in the spell, their kiss in Dumbledore's office, and the images from the others were finally starting to flow stronger

Draco taunted Potter, but his anger was somehow channelled away from violence for its own sake and into something... different

Potter angrily grabbed Draco and pushed him up against a tree

Draco pointed out an error in Potter's arithmancy assignment

Potter handed Draco his tie

And the lines of hatred were slowly dying down

Draco kicked Potter in a hallway, then sank down beside him and held him close, Potter touched Draco's arm and faced down a sneering Auror in the hospital wing, held Draco close and whispered gentle words to him as Draco tensed in pain

And down

Draco casually brushed Potter's hair

Potter and Draco stumbled into their quarters and practically fell onto their couch, laughing together, followed by a worried Weasley and very amused Pansy

And down

And the lines were calm, steady, the magic once more under their control.

Esposito took a deep breath, and allowed them all a few moments to breathe and settle down and take comfort from the wandlight glowing benignly above them all.

"I release you, Lucius Malfoy, from the circle," she said quietly, and Lucius felt the light from his wand die down. Stood shaking for a moment before realizing that if he didn't sit he would fall. Gratefully sank onto the chair behind him, chest heaving.

What the hell had he just done?

He closed his eyes, sat back, tried to catch his breath. Dimly felt the others dropping out of the circle one by one, all of them exhausted. Lupin. Severus. Longbottom.

Arthur Weasley's son, who had just seen so many of Lucius' most private memories. Who had battled against Lucius to force him to remember what - and who - they were here for.

Narcissa was out, and he couldn't meet her eyes. She would never forgive him. Oh, she would say she did - she was as well-versed as he in diplomacy, manners, and surface niceties. But down in the heart of their bond, where it mattered, she would never forget and she would never forgive.

He closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind, regaining his strength as one by one the others were released and the circle was ended, but his mind roiled with images, with fear and guilt. With the horror of what he had almost done.

The others were in various states of exhaustion, everyone but the Healers almost silent, Dumbledore speaking softly to McGonagall, both of them uncharacteristically showing every bit of their age. Pansy standing by Narcissa, looking like she wanted to offer comfort but was not sure how, her usual Slytherin composure shaken by fear and weariness. Severus leaning his forehead against the window and staring out at the Quidditch pitch, brooding.

All of them on edge, despite their extreme fatigue, from the after-effects of the near-disaster and with uncertainty as to whether or not the spell had worked. Whether or not that last pairing had done more harm than good.

It couldn't have. It had almost gone out of control, but they had pulled back before any lasting damage was done. Lucius repeated that thought like a mantra as the Healers examined both boys, their wands creating complex patterns, flickering in the candlelight.

Draco would be all right. Lucius' loss of control during that last pairing would not be the cause of his son's harm.

Though if it was, that would no doubt please the Dark Lord, if Draco took Potter with him - Lucius shuddered, dimly aware that that very thought was unforgivable.

No. They would be all right. Draco would be all right. The Dark Lord would simply have to find some other way of dealing with Potter.

"Mrs. Malfoy?" Esposito called, and Narcissa hurried to her side. Lucius stared, transfixed, as the Healer pointed out a pattern in the light to Narcissa and Granger. Narcissa's eyes widened slightly, her shoulders losing their tenseness as Granger nodded, the anxious look in her eyes turning to intellectual fascination as the Healer continued to quietly explain the patterns to her.

They were all right. They would live.

Narcissa nodded calmly and turned, glancing an unspoken signal at Lucius and he followed her into the small office next door.

"He'll be all right," she said quietly, once he had closed the door behind them.

Lucius nodded uncertainly, unable to read her feelings right now. Narcissa wasn't normally prone to hysterics, but when it came to Draco, who really knew. Although right now she didn't look like she was on the edge of hysterics. She was simply gazing at him dispassionately, coldly.

"He could have died," she said, her voice icy.

He swallowed hard.

"And if he had, you would have been next," she said. "You almost let yourself kill your own son.  _My_  son."

"Narcissa-"

"Don't." She held up her hand warningly. "Do not speak to me, not for a very long time. I have allowed you to do what you would all his life. I have let you treat Draco no better than a house elf, and I have let you bully him and hurt him and ignore him, but if you ever put him in danger again, I hope you know that I will kill you, slowly and painfully. Do not test me on this," she said, her voice beginning to tremble.

"I didn't-"

"I  _said_  don't talk," she hissed. "You-" she suddenly turned away from him, hugging herself tightly. "He could have  _died_." She drew in a shaking breath. "If it hadn't been for Ronald Weasley, Draco would have died. Because of  _you_. Because you hate Harry Potter more than you love your own son."

Lucius bit his lip as he pushed Narcissa's words away. She was wrong. He would've found the strength to stop no matter what Weasley did, he would have stopped, he wouldn't have allowed himself to harm Draco-

He had a sudden vivid image of Draco, so small, laughing in delight as Lucius spun him around; his hair blazing white, caught by a stray beam of sunlight shining into the nursery as he pulled himself up on an end table and tottered towards a house elf; shouting with joy the first time Lucius took him up in the air. Holding tight to Lucius as their broom rose up higher and higher, frightened, but trusting in his father to keep him safe.

He blinked, startled, as his sight blurred and he felt coolness on his cheek, reached up and felt moisture on his fingers. Stared at them in puzzlement as his chest tightened, and his throat closed as a sob threatened to break free.

He closed his eyes and lowered his head, tears spilling down his face, lips pressed together tightly, and frantically willed himself to keep control. The silence in the room broken only by his harsh breathing.

Narcissa stood by the window, her face betraying no emotion for the turmoil raging through Lucius.

And traitorous thoughts bubbled up faster than Lucius could turn them aside, whispering that his father's trust had been misplaced, that he had now taken the Malfoy name down as far as it could go. Labelled a criminal because of his failure in the service of a powerful Dark wizard, whom he had now betrayed. Betrayed for the sake of a son whom he'd then nearly killed with his weakness. Failure and shame and weakness, chanted the voices, everywhere he turned, his own body failing him and threatening to overwhelm him with the need to weep for his failures and for the fear of what he had nearly done to Draco-

His father's stern face came to mind, silently reminding him that he was a Malfoy and the one thing Malfoys did best was keep control. Reminded him that one failure did not excuse another, and that no matter what he had done he would not compound his disgrace by giving voice to his sorrow right now.

With a shudder he silenced the voices. Ruthlessly pushed down the threatened tears, the trembling. Grabbed and held on to his Malfoy pride.

Finally he cleared his throat and drew himself up. Forced himself to face Narcissa and not flinch from the icy disdain in her eyes.

Narcissa gave him a grimly appraising look, then pursed her lips and suddenly passed her wand over his face. He felt a strange tingling and realized she was probably getting rid of all evidence of his lack of control. She examined him dispassionately, frowned for a moment, then passed her wand over her own face, making her eyes red-rimmed and her cheeks flushed.

She cleared her throat and headed towards the door, waiting for him and holding her arm out so that he could take it and solicitously walk her out of the small office, the perfect picture of a calm husband supporting his emotionally distraught wife.

They headed back out to face the others.


	5. Extra Scenes #3, Chapters 14 and 16, Heavy On the Breathing

_1._ **Day 89, Saturday, December 26, Draco,**   _"God, yes, Merlin, he was losing the ability to breathe and Harry was going to kill him, but what a way to go."_

_2._ **Day 130, Friday, February 5, Draco,**   _"I'm being too subtle for you, aren't I?" Cornfoot said, and Draco found himself blushing. Apparently he'd turned into Harry when he wasn't looking._

**ooooooo**

**_Author Notes:_ ** _There was this bit I'd started to write, set during the Christmas holidays, that I soon realized was kinda fun but added little or nothing to the actual plot of the story. It was about how sad and lonely (::snicker::) the boys were during the Christmas holidays, when they had no friends around and no classes to attend and nothing whatsoever to do but... um... get to... know each other better. A lot better. Ahem._

_So I abandoned the scene, skipped right over the holidays in the fic, and the scene stayed in unloved, half-finished oblivion on my hard drive, until Garak21 asked if I'd ever written anything set during the Christmas holidays._

_Yes, I said._

_Ever thought of posting it? she asked._

_No, said I._

_Well, do so, said she._

_All righty, said I._

_So here it is, for Garak21 and anybody else who's interested :)_

**Day 89, Saturday**

In some ways this was one of the better Christmas holidays he'd had, Draco thought as he gently bit Harry's earlobe and Harry gave a small moan and they abandoned their latest study session. Yes, sometimes it was a little boring, and lonely, and he missed his family and friends and the Manor. And he supposed Harry missed the Weasel-den too. But not being obliged to go to class - or even leave their room, for that matter - had its advantages. Namely, sex pretty much whenever and however they wanted. It was like so far he was spending the entire holiday in a heady state of sexual bliss.

They hadn't even bothered with clothing yet today, he realized as Harry impatiently kicked their books off the bed and they landed in a heap, and he winced as he heard a crinkle of paper. That was probably his three-foot long Potions paper, landing at the bottom of the pile.

Oh well. Excellent opportunity to practice those smoothing charms he'd messed up during his Christmas exams. Later. Right now Harry was very efficiently distracting Draco from anything other than the pleasure of their bodies, his touch sure and confident as he licked Draco's neck just so, bit that place on his earlobe - right there, and he was smiling and his eyes were closing in delight as Draco responded with all the things he knew Harry liked, their mouths hot against each other and their limbs entwined,  _very_  nicely attuned to one other.

This was definitely not as bad as he'd thought it would be, he thought as he pushed Harry onto his back and nuzzled into his neck. Mother would probably be pleased to hear that missing the Manor for Christmas was not the disaster she'd feared it would be. Not that he would explain it to her. Not only was he more likely to get a spectacular haul of post-Christmas sweets if his mother felt bad for him, but "Dear Mother, Happy Christmas, having a wonderful time, Harry's a  _brilliant_ lay," was not an owl he felt any need to send.

In fact, there were only two problems with his life right now. He was a bit hungry, and frankly, his arse was getting a little sore.

Not that Harry was rough at all, unless Draco wanted him to be, but the human body didn't appear to be built to do this so many times in a row. And while on the one hand he was rather thrilled to have had so much sex that he was reaching the limits of his body's tolerance, on the other hand... well, ouch. He pulled back with a slight hiss as Harry's hand slipped down his lower back and between his legs.

"You all right?" Harry murmured into his ear.

"Yeah, fine," Draco said breathlessly, then winced as Harry repeated what he'd just done.

"What's wrong?"

"Erm..." he cleared his throat. "I think twice before lunch is my limit."

"Oh." Harry pulled back, a little disappointed, but understanding.

"It's not that I don't want to," Draco said, and he pulled Harry closer again, gasping as Harry returned to his lips and they started stroking each other. But he winced a bit as Harry's grip grew firmer and he realized with dismay that he was a little tender there too. And that for once he wasn't totally thrilled at the prospect of a hand job. He didn't much miss being inside another person during sex - too busy getting off on the brilliant sensation of having another person inside him - but when that wasn't going to happen... well, being tossed off wasn't that great a substitute. Especially as it seemed that was also going to involve some... discomfort.

Hm... well...

They'd discussed oral sex, before, with Esposito. Harry had been (predictably) squeamish at the thought. And it really hadn't come up again, as they were both normally too eager to bother with anything slower than mutual pleasure. But maybe it was high time Harry got over that particular hang-up...

Well, Harry might balk at the thought of giving. But if Draco remembered anything about how it felt when he was looking forward to burying himself in somebody and they suddenly changed their minds, he probably wouldn't terribly mind receiving right about now. And if it went well... well, he was a Gryffindor. Marvellously fair-minded and all. That had to work to Draco's advantage.

He worked his way down Harry's neck, down to his chest, slowly licking and biting down Harry's body and slowing down as he got to his stomach, and Harry smiled, his eyes closed in pleasure, and started to pull him back up. Draco stopped him and instead went a little lower.

Harry froze. Draco looked up to see green eyes warily regarding him. He propped his chin on Harry's stomach, and they gazed at each other for a moment. Harry made a questioning sound in his throat.

"I don't want to come back up," Draco said carefully. "And I don't want to have sex." He cleared his throat. "But that doesn't mean all we can do is toss each other off."

Harry's eyes were doubtful, hesitant. "Erm... I don't know if I..."

"I'm not asking you to. But I don't mind trying it myself."

"Really?"

Draco nodded.

"Have you ever... erm..."

"Not on a boy."

"No, I mean-" Harry broke off, eyebrows going up. "You mean, you've done... that... to a girl?"

Draco smiled, amused at how Harry, now perfectly at ease with sex in general, still reverted to shy awkwardness whenever something new came up. "Yeah, plenty of times."

"You didn't mind?"

Draco shook his head.

"And has anybody, to you-"

"Oh yeah," Draco smirked. "Lots of times."

Harry blushed to the roots of his hair, and Draco had to remind himself that mockery right now might not lead to a satisfactory conclusion. "What's it feel like?"

"Do you want me to tell you, or show you?"

Harry swallowed hard, his pulse racing.

"Let me show you," Draco said, and smirked as Harry hesitantly nodded and lifted himself onto his elbows, licking his lips unconsciously as he watched Draco.

He resumed his path down Harry's stomach, down to his groin and stopped, abruptly a little nervous. Right. Somehow he'd momentarily forgotten exactly what oral sex entailed. This was... he braced himself and made himself ignore the little voice in his head that perked up to tell him he'd never done this before, and that touching another boy with his hands was just a tad different from taking him into his mouth, and what if this was disgusting and what if he wasn't very good at it or-

He shut the little voice up and closed his eyes, trying to remember what Pansy had done the last time they'd been together. Um... no, Pansy was a bit pervy and what she'd done just might shock Harry into celibacy for the rest of the week. Eileen had been nice, though. She had... he tentatively moved to lick Harry, and was rewarded by a hiss of indrawn breath. He opened his mouth, pressing an open-mouthed kiss along the side, sliding his lips up slightly, barely touching Harry with his tongue, and had to quickly move back as Harry gasped and his hips jerked up reflexively.

"S-sorry," Harry stammered, "I, erm-"

"Shh." Draco resumed his path up, then down, then took a deep breath and hesitantly took Harry into his mouth, and any nervousness he was feeling was almost obliterated by a blinding flash of shocked arousal from Harry. Draco glanced up in time to see Harry close his eyes and toss his head back, and felt disorientingly as though he was Harry, all rational thought obliterated by the mind-blowing pleasure spiking through him.

Draco grinned. So far, so good.

"All right, then?" he let go of Harry long enough to ask, and returned, using his tongue a little more.

Harry nodded quickly, eyes closed tight, and lay back down, the strength in his arms giving out. Clapped a hand over his own mouth, biting down hard, a soft keening sound of delight getting past his clenched jaw.

Mm, yes,  _very_  nice. "Should I go on?"

Harry nodded again, his breath in gulping gasps.

"What do you say?" Draco teased, his mouth hovering and open over Harry so that Harry could feel the warmth of his breath.

Harry let go of his hand, eyes still squeezed shut, and managed to gasp, "Please!"

"You sure?" Draco gave him a slow lick, his own groin starting to ache with arousal as Harry shuddered.

"Mmyeah, uhn, god, please,  _fuck_ ," Harry gasped, and Draco decided to abandon any pretence of teasing or going slow; they were both much too far along for that. He took Harry into his mouth again, moving his tongue and increasing the suction, and the spike of arousal jumped impossibly high and he felt Harry's orgasm begin, and moved off before Harry could touch his head in warning.

"S-sorry, I can't - oh, oh _god_ -" Harry groaned and threw his head back as he came, hard, and Draco took himself in hand, figuring four strokes ought to do it and overestimating by two, as his muscles tightened and a wave of pleasure broke over him.

Harry was still shocked, Draco realized with amusement as his own breathing slowed down. Lying there half-disbelieving that Draco had just done what he'd done. That he'd felt such intense bliss over something so simple.

He grinned as Harry's eyes opened and he stared at the ceiling.

"You all right?" he asked, laughing.

"Erm..." Harry said weakly. "That was... god, that was... erm..."

"I take it you enjoyed it."

" _Fuck_ , yes!" Harry said fervently, and Draco laughed again.

"What?" Harry asked, a bit defensive.

"You're not quite the blushing virgin I married, are you?" Draco smirked, and Harry felt around for a pillow to hit him with.

"Does it always feel that... brilliant?" Harry asked.

Draco shrugged, not sure if he'd been quite as overwhelmed by his first blow job as Harry. Maybe it was due to the bond, or the fact that Harry was still relatively inexperienced. Or maybe it was just that Harry was particularly susceptible to enjoying oral sex.

"Did - did you want me to, erm-"

"Not right now," Draco chuckled. "Later?"

" _God_ , yes. I mean, when you said, I thought I wouldn't want to but if it feels that brilliant it wouldn't be fair, would it? Because I  _definitely_  want you to do that again," he said earnestly.

Draco laughed again. "What, right now?"

Harry rolled his eyes, finally regaining his equilibrium. "What's it like?" he asked curiously as Draco moved up beside him on the bed and lay down on his side.

"I just showed you."

"No, I mean, doing it yourself."

"Oh. Erm." Draco thought for a moment. "All right. I wasn't sure before, but really, it's not bad. I mean, I've done girls before, so it wasn't really that weird. Though I've heard that if it takes a long time, your jaw gets sore."

Harry nodded thoughtfully, idly tracing a finger down Draco's chest. "This is..." he shook his head, a small smile on his face.

"What?"

"I just - I wasn't looking forward to the hols without any of our friends, but... I have to admit, this isn't bad."

"Which part?"

"The part where it's past noon and we've still not got dressed but we've already shagged twice and... well, done this." He grinned. "I could think of worse ways to spend the holidays."

"Yeah, me too," Draco grinned back.

Harry laughed, turned over onto his back. "God. That was intense." He stared at the ceiling. "I think you broke me."

Draco laughed, shaking his head. "You're..."

"What?"

"Why on earth didn't you ever have sex before?"

Harry's eyebrows drew together. "It wasn't on purpose. I would've been happy to, it just... didn't seem to work out."

"Why not?"

"I dunno," Harry shrugged.

"You went out with Cho Chang, didn't you? Did she not want to?"

"We never even got that close. Best we got was one date at the Three Broomsticks on Valentine's Day. And a kiss at Christmas."

"You're joking."

"No."

"I would've thought the Gryffindor girls would've been mad for you."

"I wish."

Draco mulled that over.

"When did you?" Harry asked.

"When did I what?"

"Lose your virginity."

"Fifteen. I would've before, but Pansy didn't want to go that far, and the other Slytherin girls... well, it just didn't work out."

"What was it like?"

"With Pansy? Brilliant. Except she, erm, bled a bit, and I felt like a bit of a heel. But she was all right the second time."

"Mm."

"What?"

"I... I was really nervous, with you, the first time - I mean, I could tell you were in pain."

"I didn't mind."

"No... but I still... I didn't know if I was doing it right, I just..."

"You did it right."

"Well I know that  _now_..."

They were silent for a few minutes, each lost in his thoughts, Harry's hand slowly caressing Draco's chest.

"Were you nervous?" Harry finally asked curiously

Draco raised his eyebrows. Reflected for a moment that if anybody had ever told him in September that by Christmas he'd be seriously discussing inner feelings with Harry Potter, he would've owled St. Mungo's Idiot Ward - even more so than if they'd suggested that he'd be having sex with Harry Potter.

He shrugged slightly. "I didn't agree to the Serenity Spell just out of concern for you."

Harry smiled and pushed him onto his back, drawing closer and resting his head on Draco's chest, one arm thrown over him and one leg between Draco's. Draco closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, warm and sated and... content. So strange, that the scent of this room, this bed, should be so soothing. A comforting mix of skin and sweat and honeyed oil and sex. Of two people lounging in bed, skin on skin, for hours, becoming so much a part of one another that it was almost impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.

He moved slightly and tilted Harry's chin up and Harry obligingly raised his head and covered Draco's mouth with his own, and they kissed deeply for long moments while Harry's fingers caressed the back of his neck and Draco slowly ran one hand down Harry's back and side, smiling as he hit a ticklish spot and Harry shied away slightly.

"I'm glad you did," Harry murmured. "Don't know what exactly I was so afraid of, but I'm glad you were braver than I was."

Draco smirked. "It wasn't that difficult, married to the Boy Who Lived to Be Terrified of Sex."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'd say it was nice to see you getting in touch with your own Gryffindor side," he said dryly, "but I don't much want to get vital parts of me hexed right off."

Draco snickered. "Not likely; I've a vested interest in some of those vital parts. Besides, there's nothing Gryffindor about being randy and tired of petting."

"Mm. Suppose so..." Harry ran his fingers through Draco's hair and slowly moved his lips down the side of Draco's neck and behind his ear, pressing closer, half on top of him now, and Draco thought vaguely that, sweat-damp and sticky as they both were, this should have felt awkward or faintly disgusting. But it didn't. It felt right. More than right, as a matter of fact - more like bloody brilliant, and his body was beginning to let him know just how brilliant. Amazing, what a bond could do.

He felt Harry's amusement through their bond. "Speaking of vital parts and being tired of petting..." Harry said, and began moving leisurely down Draco's chest and to his stomach.

"Hm... are you planning on... oh... returning the favour?" Draco asked, slightly breathless as Harry's tongue did wicked things to his navel. Damn, Harry knew that always left him somewhat... dazed.

"Mmhhm..." Harry continued his unhurried progress downward, and didn't pause as he reached his destination and took Draco into his mouth in one slow, smooth movement.

Draco sighed deeply, shivering as Harry's tongue began to caress him. Merlin, he'd forgotten just how amazing this could feel. How could he have forgotten? Or was it actually better than it had ever been, because of the bond?

This had been an  _excellent_  idea, he congratulated himself - and then all thought fled as Harry started to seriously apply himself to wresting every shiver Draco had within him, and through the bond he caught Harry's intense concentration as Harry focussed every fibre of his being on Draco's reactions.

And did a hell of a good job at it, too. "Oh... ooh god..." he breathed, unaware that he'd spoken out loud until he heard and felt a chuckle from Harry, and caught his breath. The effect of the murmuring laugh, while Draco was deep inside Harry's mouth, was dizzying.

"What's... so funny?" he managed to whisper.

"Mm, you're very... responsive," Harry murmured, and Draco opened his eyes long enough to see Harry's eyes almost glowing green, before Harry returned to his task, and the sight of Harry going down on him, the feel of it, and the emotional rush of Harry's easy confidence now that he had Draco turned to boneless helplessness, made Draco's eyes roll to the back of his head and he gave up any pretence of detachment or dignity. This felt just too bloody good to do anything but revel in it. Draco had absolutely no idea whether Harry's technique was unexpectedly expert-level or whether he was absolute rubbish at this, but he didn't care. It felt like he was being taken higher and higher, heat gathering and brilliant lights going off behind his closed eyes...

God, yes, Merlin, he was losing the ability to breathe and Harry was going to kill him, but what a way to go. He arched his back, grabbing onto the headboard to avoid grabbing Harry's hair, amazed at the feverish pitch of his arousal, vaguely aware that he was moaning continuously and unable to decide whether he needed Harry to continue for the next fifteen years, or bring him off  _now_ , before his heart gave out.

"Shhh," Harry gently held down Draco's helplessly bucking hips, then gripped him a little more firmly, gave that tiny fraction more suction, and Draco felt his climax rushing through him, realizing that he hadn't warned Harry and Harry might not be too keen on repeating the experience if he got a mouthful of - damn, too late - and he unravelled completely as he came, shaking and crying out, so hard and so long it felt like he'd never done anything else but come in his entire life.

Draco lay panting, dazed and utterly spent, eyes closed as small aftershocks continued to race through him. Opened his eyes and stared blankly at Harry as Harry laughed softly.

"What?" he whispered.

"Mm. You're very... um... attractive when you come," Harry said, his voice low.

"Yeah?" He closed his eyes, his whole body still... humming, or something, in contentment.

"I don't normally get to watch," Harry said softly. "You're... you let go. It's... it's nice."

"You broke me. I know you did. Merlin." Draco kept his eyes closed and distantly wondered if he'd blacked out somewhere in there. Wondered if he was going to black out right now. Certainly felt like it.

Harry chuckled. "Go to sleep," he said, and climbed back to the top of the bed, taking Draco into his arms.

"D'you want me to... erm..." Draco began reluctantly, not knowing how he'd return the favour if Harry wanted him to.

Harry chuckled. "You're in no shape to right now. Later?"

"Oh yeah." He yawned. "Yeah, of course. Bloody hell," he mumbled as he started to drift off. "This is the best Christmas holiday ever."

**ooooooo**

**ooooooo**

**_Author Notes:_ ** _This is a scene that got cut out of Chapter 16 before I sent it off to Kyllikki for a very good reason: it added little or nothing to the plot._

**Day 130, Friday**

Draco realized a voice had just gone up at the end, indicating a question, and looked up. His Charms partner, Stephen Cornfoot, was staring at him expectantly, and Draco had no idea what he'd just asked about, as he'd been too busy musing over the article about Parnassus McKay's messy demise to really focus on anything. Besides, Cornfoot was a Ravenclaw and seemed to have today's entire exercise memorized, so it wasn't as though he'd particularly needed Draco's input until now.

"Beg pardon?" Draco said.

"I said, fancy a shag sometime," Cornfoot said, his very casual voice covering a bit of tension.

"What?" For a moment the juxtaposition of Charms class and McKay and Cornfoot's statement made so little sense that Draco literally couldn't understand him.

"Fancy a shag, I said," Cornfoot said.

"With who?"

"With me."

Draco blinked.

Cornfoot's mouth quirked slightly and he leaned a little closer, pitching his voice a little louder but still low enough to not be overheard over the background hum of students working on their charms around them. "I am asking if you would like to engage in sexual activity."

"With you?"

"Yes," Cornfoot said patiently. "Sexual activity, with me."

"Why?"

"I'm doing research to compare and contrast gay and straight sexual intercourse."

Draco looked at him askance, and could almost hear Pansy saying "Honestly,  _Ravenclaws_ ," when he told her about this at lunch.

Cornfoot rolled his eyes. "No, Mordred, not for research. Because I'd like to shag you."

Draco stared at him blankly.

"Oh god. Gryffindor thickness is contagious. Do you have any clue what I'm talking about?"

"Wait, seriously? You want to have sex with me?"

"I'm being too subtle for you, aren't I?" Cornfoot said, and Draco found himself blushing. Apparently he'd turned into Harry when he wasn't looking.

"But... why?"

Cornfoot took a deep breath, clearly summoning patience. "Because there's roughly eighty students above the age of consent in the school, and only forty are male, only six of those are gay or bi, and frankly most of those are just not to be countenanced as sexual partners." He paused. "Also, I'm gay," he said clearly, just in case Draco had missed that one.

Draco mentally ran through the list of boys he knew who went that way, and nodded thoughtfully. Cornfoot was quite right. Not an acceptable one in the lot.

"All right..."

"All right, you'll sleep with me?"

"No! No, I mean all right, I understand-"

Cornfoot started to laugh at his discomfort, and suddenly Draco was almost... intrigued. He pursed his lips, regarding Cornfoot narrowly. Not bad looking. Pureblood, thank god. Ravenclaw, which might be very convenient, as it offered no intra-house awkwardness, no entanglements with Harry's house, and no ready source for ridicule if it became known that Draco Malfoy was shagging a Hufflepuff...

And he was actually seriously considering it, he realized. "This is definitely one of the stranger moments I've had this year," he muttered.

"Really. In a year involving a forced bond, shattered windows, a honeymoon in the middle of the school year and a mysterious near-death experience, a proposition from me rates as one of the stranger moments. You do know how to sweet-talk a boy, don't you?"

"Why ask me, though?" Draco asked curiously. "I've never had the impression you fancied me."

"I don't, not really. Though you're quite fit. But you've had experience having sex with another bloke. I'd like to." Cornfoot tapped his quill on the table unconsciously, clearing his throat. "Despite our stereotype, not all Ravenclaws are convinced that all learning comes from books. I'd rather not start out completely clueless when I leave school."

"You'd like me to instruct one of the few gay members of our year in gay sex?"

"Essentially, yes."

"All right, just wanted to know what I'd be getting into."

"Me, hopefully," Cornfoot deadpanned.

Draco winced. That kind of punning was unacceptable. But as for the actual proposal...

He regarded Cornfoot thoughtfully. Really, not bad looking. A little taller than Draco, lean, well-built, nondescript face, pleasant blue eyes. A little quiet, but it wasn't necessary to be on conversational terms with a sexual partner.

This might be a somewhat better alternative than taking up with Pansy again. Though Draco had never had any qualms about casual sex with her in the past, things had changed between them this year and it no longer seemed quite...  _right_  to sleep with her and not worry about possible ramifications. He no longer had a superabundance of allies or friends in Slytherin; he couldn't really afford to jeopardize one of the only steady sources of support he had.

This was simple, uncomplicated. Not likely to lead to anything. Recreational sex for sheer tension-release.

Which he had severe need of, these days. Between the nerve-wrecking nature of his family's precarious political balance, and the yawning void of uncertainty about the future, and school, and... and the thing he tried very hard not to think about...

This would probably be fairly helpful in that area, he realized. A far better solution than wanking sessions that left him dissatisfied and missing Harry and absolutely mortified for doing so.

He'd really thought girls would be a good antidote; he'd always liked them before, and they definitely didn't remind him of Harry. But maybe what he needed was another boy to take away memories of Harry. Drive Harry out of his thoughts and fantasies.

"Right, then. When?"

Cornfoot blinked at him for a moment. "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"You want to..."

Draco smirked. "Yess..."

"You want to have sex with me," Cornfoot said slowly.

"You know, I believe we've danced this one before," Draco said dryly, much more comfortable now that the tables were turned. He laughed at Cornfoot's reddening face. "Did you think I was going to turn you down?"

"Erm, frankly, yes," Cornfoot said uneasily. "I mean, I was very much hoping you wouldn't, but I know you were straight before..."

"Leave the straight and gay labels to Muggles," he waved that aside scornfully. "Do you have any experience at all? I'm not keen on deflowering yet another trembling virgin."

"Merlin, no," Cornfoot said, chuckling. "I dated Ellen Brook last year."

"She dates boys?" Draco asked, surprised.

"She dated me," Cornfoot shrugged. "I think we were both hoping we could still, you know, marry, provide pureblood children to our families, that sort of thing."

Draco nodded. That made sense. And showed that Cornfoot was discreet; this was certainly the first time he'd ever heard of Brook dating any male in the school. Which brought up another thing: "I don't particularly want this becoming common knowledge," he cautioned.

"No, nor do I. My mother would have fits because you're male, and my father because you're Lucius Malfoy's son," Cornfoot said bluntly.

Draco narrowed his eyes, stung.

"I don't particularly care who your father is, Malfoy," Cornfoot said. "It's not him I'm hoping to bed, after all."

Draco looked away, pushing down resentment and focussing on the matter at hand. "Right. When?"

Cornfoot licked his lips, whether from nervousness or anticipation Draco couldn't tell. "Tonight after dinner? There's an unused classroom Ellen and I used, fifth floor, near Boris the Bewildered-"

"Yeah, I've used it before. I've Quidditch tonight, though. I'm done at nine."

"Is this a one-time offer, or-"

Draco shrugged. "I'll let you know after tonight."

Cornfoot nodded. "Tonight at nine, then." He smiled slightly. "All right, d'you want to finish off the fourth charm set?"

Draco blinked, off-balance at the topic change. "Er - yeah, all right."

"You don't have a clue what the set is about today, though, do you?"

Draco scowled at him.

"I noticed you were a bit distracted, even before I brought this up."

Draco's scowl deepened. This was to be about a mutual exchange of favours; it certainly did not need to be complicated with intrusions into his personal thoughts and feelings.

"From the boredom of the class, I'm sure," Cornfoot said smoothly, and segued into a quick, concise review of the day's topic. Draco listened with half his attention, the other half trying very hard not to think about how... cold all of this had been. Student A wants sexual experience; Student B wants suitable distraction; they schedule a mutually convenient time, and carry on as before. No worry about motivations or politics or personalities or feelings.

Exactly what he wanted. Simple, effective, and beneficial to all involved.

And no, it didn't bother him at all.

And it didn't bother him at all later that night, as he and Cornfoot indulged in one last unhurried snog before they parted company and he headed back to the dungeon. Body still pleasantly zinging and worn out from the aftermath of their activities, nerves somewhat steadied, another assignation planned for two days hence, and no involvement of his emotions at all.


	6. Extra Scenes #4, Chapter 20-Epilogue, Mostly Gloomy and Doomy

_1._ **Day 172, Friday, March 19 to Day 174, Sunday, March 21, Various POVs,** _This is beyond weird, Ron thinks as he stares at the unappetizing globby sludge-in-a-goblet that is Polyjuice potion._

_2._ **Day 178, Thursday, March 25 to Day 183, Tuesday, March 30, Various POVs _,_** _Draco's memories aren't nearly as hazy as he'd like them to be. He's considered Obliviating them._

**ooooooo**

**_Author's Notes:_ ** _This was the writing equivalent of doodling, prompted by a question from Dehlia. Here you go, Dehlia :)_

**Day 172, Friday, March 19**  to  **Day 174, Sunday, March 21**

**_Ron_ **

This is beyond weird, Ron thinks as he stares at the unappetizing globby sludge-in-a-goblet that is Polyjuice potion.

"I can't believe I'm doing this again," he mutters, and Malfoy looks at him curiously.

"Again?"

"Long story," he mutters. "Ready?"

Malfoy nods, absently fidgeting with the frayed collar of Ron's uniform, hanging a little loose around his neck.

"Right, then, let's do it," says Ron, and pulls out a hair, handing it to Malfoy as Malfoy does the same. They silently add the white and pale orange hairs to each glass and watch them dissolve.

"Bottoms up," says Ron, bracing himself. Closes his eyes, takes in a mouthful, and swallows it down.

Augh. Merlin. That. Is. Revolting.

He starts to gag and claps a hand over his mouth to prevent himself from spitting the foul stuff right back up.

"Oh, come, Weasley, stop the hysterics-" Parkinson begins impatiently, stopping as Malfoy covers his own mouth, eyes watering slightly from the foulness of the potion.

"It's really, really disgusting, Pansy," Harry says sympathetically. "They can't help it."

"How would you know?" she asks him suspiciously.

"Long story," Harry says, wincing as Malfoy shudders from the taste of the potion.

Ron chases the taste away with a generous mouthful of butterbeer, and feels the change begin. Disgusting, disturbing, and uncomfortable as hell. His face is... bubbling, there's no better word for it, and he can feel his limbs doing a weirdly simultaneous stretch and contract. He's shrinking, very slightly, and Malfoy's impeccable, finely tailored uniform starts to feel a little more comfortable. He puts his head down, holding on to the back of a chair, closing his eyes to keep the confusing stimuli down to a minimum. Last time he did this - was it really five years ago? He ended up retching over a toilet, but this time it's not so bad. There's some merit in taking a potion brewed by a Potions master rather than a twelve-year-old girl, no matter how brilliant the girl.

He opens his eyes.

Draco Malfoy's eyesight is not quite as keen as his own, Ron realizes immediately. He can't see the details of the medicine cabinet across the hospital.

He stares at his hands, his pale, smooth, unfreckled hands, long fingers - manicured, no doubt, the vain prat. Straightens up and stares, wide-eyed, at... himself. Locks eyes with a person he dislikes, who is wearing his face and looking at him in dismay. It's disorienting - like he's here, and simultaneously  _there_. And there's an expression on his face that he's never seen in the mirror.

"Blimey," he says, and winces as Draco Malfoy's voice comes out of his throat. His own face stares back at him in utter disgust.

"Weasley-" Malfoy starts in slight alarm at his own voice, then steels himself and carries on. "If you can manage somehow to alter your diction while you're using my voice, that'll probably help a great deal."

"Malfoy, if you can manage somehow to keep from sounding like a poncey git while you're using  _my_  voice, that would probably help a great deal too," Ron snaps, and is surprised to hear a giggle.

"Erm. Sorry," Hermione chokes out. He would snap at her too, but he can see that Harry and Ginny and Parkinson are also biting their lips to keep from snickering and he doesn't particularly feel like providing more amusement for everybody. He trades an annoyed glance with... himself, again, and all of a sudden he  _gets_  why Harry went back to Malfoy.

Yes, he'd listened to Hermione's reasoning before they got back together, and after they did he was able to rationalize Harry's actions to himself by reminding himself of everything Hermione said. And he'd worked out, all by himself, that Malfoy must not be the complete git Ron had always thought he was when he saw that Malfoy was worried about Harry's health, and when he figured out what was wrong with Harry, and when he showed he was willing to risk being disowned again to help Harry.

But this brings it home more directly. Ron knows how he feels right now, wearing the body of somebody he deeply dislikes and watching his own face and body being taken over by that same person. Ron would be willing to do this for very, very few people. Harry is one of those very few, because Harry has been Ron's best friend for almost seven years.

Malfoy is looking every bit as appalled and uncomfortable with this polyjuice business as Ron is, but he's doing it anyway. Without almost seven years of friendship with Harry to make it OK for him.

He gazes at Malfoy and knows that it's highly unlikely that Malfoy's feelings for Ron have changed. But Ron's have. The dislike is there, yes, but Ron doesn't think he'll ever be able to hate Malfoy again. Six years of insults and hatred and bad blood between them don't stand a chance balanced against what Malfoy is doing right now.

He's gone from grudging acceptance to forgiveness, Ron thinks. He'll have to talk to Hermione about it.

"All right," says Parkinson. "Draco, we'll be back at bedtime."

"Yeah, all right," Ron's voice says, with no assistance from Ron. Bloody hell, that's disorienting.

Ron shakes his head to dispel the discomfort. "Harry, are you still sure you don't want-" he begins, and Harry cuts him off.

"I'll be fine overnight," Harry says firmly.

"You're being an idiot," Malfoy comments. "You know Weasley and I are both willing to go till tomorrow."

"Too risky."

"Blaise already knows what we're doing, and I don't talk to Crabbe or Goyle or anybody else in Slytherin any more. I'm sure even Weasley could pull this off till morning."

"We'll see," Harry says, starting to get annoyed, and Ron shakes his head at Malfoy.

"Fine," Malfoy mutters, giving up, and Ron makes a mental note: his own face doesn't appear to do "pout" very well.

"Right, Weasley, let's go," Parkinson says, and Ron spares one last glance at Harry, Hermione and Ginny before donning Harry's cloak and following Parkinson out of the hospital wing.

**_Neville_ **

Oh, god, Neville thinks dazedly once his skin has stopped bubbling. They've done it. He is Draco Malfoy. And Draco Malfoy is him.

Neville gulps and his eyes widen and he stares at Malfoy, not sure whether his queasiness is due to the foul potion or a sudden and severe attack of nerves.

Oh god - how is he supposed to pull this off? Malfoy has always seemed the epitome of arrogance and self-confidence to Neville, since first year. How can Neville mimic that? Malfoy is never nervous, he never feels small or insignificant. Even now, wearing Neville's own homely face and body, and he doesn't look stupid or awkward or shy. Somehow he's pulling this off.

Actually, he's not. He's too relaxed, too self-assured, doesn't look like Neville at all. For one thing, Neville had no idea his own face could ever look at anybody with as much disdain as he sees there now, as he tries to imitate Malfoy's body language and Malfoy rolls his eyes in impatience at his feeble efforts, just like Grandmother often does.

Oh Merlin. With that disapproving glare set in Neville's face, with Neville's eyes that look so much like his grandmother's, and his jaw that he now realizes looks like his grandmother's when she's angry with him... right now, Draco Malfoy currently very much resembles Augusta Longbottom. All he needs is a huge handbag and a hat with a large bird perched on top.

Neville tries to block the hysterical giggle rising in his throat, but he can't. Everybody looks at him in alarm, which quickly turns to hilarity because obviously it must be funny to them to see Draco Malfoy lose it like this, and he's trying so hard to stop laughing but he can't-

"Longbottom! Stop that!" Malfoy snaps, and that only makes Neville laugh harder. If Grandmother ever got a severe cold and her voice dropped an octave, that's exactly what she'd sound like.

"Snap out of it!" Malfoy says, and glares around at the rest of them. "It's not funny. If he can't control himself, he can't go out there, and this won't work!"

The rest of them try to stifle themselves and Harry gives Malfoy a slightly worried look. Neville's stomach drops as he realizes something. The only way Malfoy can stay with Harry is if it looks like he's not here. For that to work, Neville must go out there and pretend to be Malfoy. If he can't, and if anybody gets wind of the fact that Draco's near Harry...

Neville's hiccuping, trying to get rid of the giggles, getting a little frantic, when Malfoy grabs his shoulders and gives him a shake. He braces for an attack, and is completely blindsided by what happens instead.

"Longbottom," Malfoy barks at him. "Pull yourself together. You can do this. You were there for Harry in the Department of Mysteries, you can do this for him now." Malfoy's voice is hard and uncompromising, but there's not a hint of contempt or condescension in it, and that shocks Neville into silence. "You are not going to let him down now; you never have." Neville takes a deep breath, firmly pushing down his hysterics as Malfoy goes on. "He told you once that you were worth ten of me. Now fucking well prove it!"

Neville gulps and nods, and Malfoy lets go of his shoulder. He nods at Parkinson, who's looking a bit blindsided as well. "He'll be fine," Malfoy tells her briskly. "Just make sure he doesn't cringe or slouch. I'll see you in a couple of hours."

Parkinson nods and gestures for Neville to put on the cloak and leave the hospital wing.

"Oh and Longbottom," Malfoy adds as they get ready to go, "don't forget that most of the Slytherins would love to hex you into next year. If you act like you're scared, or ashamed of yourself, or weak in any way, they will."

Neville nods and Malfoy gives him a grim smile.

"You can do this. Now go, or you'll be late for class."

**_Dean_ **

So that's what white skin looks like from the point of view of the wearer, Dean thinks dazedly as he looks at his own hands and Malfoy and Parkinson exchange a bit of last-minute information. It's startling as hell. Like every time he catches a glimpse of himself, he's surprised. He feels like he's been... highlighted.

That's a Muggle thing, Dean realizes. Something that Draco Malfoy probably knows nothing about.

He swallows hard. The Gryffindor Polyjuice Squad seemed like such a bright idea yesterday, when Ron and Hermione first proposed it. And both Ron and Neville appear to have pulled it off without a hitch. But suddenly the whole idea seems insane, because no matter how much knowledge all four of them have crammed into themselves about Malfoy's life and habits and vital information, they're crazy to believe they can pull this off without exposure for more than a day.

It's true that they don't have to worry about being overly social with the Slytherins, because Malfoy doesn't talk to them any more, but there are still a million little things that could trip them up. Like Draco Malfoy making a comment about a highlighter, a writing tool that doesn't exist in the quill-and-parchment wizarding world. Or Draco Malfoy being unable to answer a question in Potions. Or Draco Malfoy knowing more about Herbology than any Malfoy ever would.

Not to mention Dean Thomas not being able to follow a discussion about football, Dean thinks, as he stares at his own face and voice talking with Parkinson. What if Justin Finch-Fletchley or Anthony Goldstein come by to visit Harry, and Malfoy can't figure out how to carry on a conversation with them? What if he somehow lets slip his complete ignorance of and contempt for the Muggle world, when he's supposedly Muggle-born?

And what about Dean's girlfriend? What if Tracey comes to visit Harry and the person she thinks is Dean? Off the top of his head Dean can think of about half a dozen inside jokes, endearments and shared experiences between himself and Tracey that Malfoy might not know about, might not understand.

Dean had wanted to tell her about the Polyjuice Squad, because it really didn't seem right to participate in something like this and not tell her, but he was outvoted by the others. Dean doesn't blame them; Tracey's a Slytherin, Dean hasn't been dating her that long, this is deadly serious and there's no urgent need for her to know... but it still feels wrong to keep it from her. She's nothing like what Dean always thought Slytherins were like. She seems aloof and cynical from the outside, but in private she's warm and caring and things have been getting serious between them and it's just not right, that Dean should go around impersonating one of her own housemates without even letting her know. It's even less right that he allow one of her housemates to impersonate him without telling her.

What if she decides to come visit Dean in the hospital today? The thought of Tracey cheerfully dropping a kiss on Malfoy's cheek and snuggling up to him, innocently thinking he's Dean, makes Dean a little queasy. And he knows how betrayed he would feel if Tracey did something like this to him.

Well, Tracey's a Slytherin. Hopefully, if she ever finds out about this, he can appeal to her logical, pragmatic side. Hopefully she won't see his deception as betrayal, but as an unpleasant yet necessary act.

Dean gulps as Parkinson gives him a curt nod and he picks up Malfoy's schoolbag, startling himself again with the sight of his blindingly white skin. Parkinson smirks at him and Dean wonders if she just caught him flinching at his own hands.

It's only for three hours, Dean tells himself as they walk out of the hospital wing. He can do this. He may be wearing a Slytherin's face and body, but right now what he really needs is some solid Gryffindor courage.

**_Seamus_ **

Oh, not cool, thinks Seamus as he watches Malfoy take his own shape. Not cool at all.

This is crazy. It's not going to work, even though Malfoy looks exactly the same as what Seamus sees every morning in the mirror, as well as perfectly blasé about Seamus' appearance. Of course; he's been doing this for two days, he's used to seeing other people wear his face. Besides, he's not the one who has to go out there and pretend to be somebody else; for the most part, he'll only be around people who are in on the scam.

Malfoy's started to talk to Harry, dismissing Seamus entirely, and Parkinson tugs on Seamus' sleeve.

"Let's go, Finnigan," she says impatiently, and Seamus follows her automatically for a few steps before balking.

It's all old hat to them, he knows; Ron's been Malfoy more often than he's been himself in the last two days, Neville's been Malfoy four times and Dean three, Parkinson has been shepherding them all through all their classes and meals - even Blaise Zabini has helped, making sure Ron didn't give himself away in the Slytherin boys' dorm last night. But right now Seamus is realizing that insisting on taking a turn was not a good idea, at all.

"I shouldn't have done this," he blurts, stopping in his tracks, and Parkinson raises her eyebrows.

"Excuse me?"

"I - I can't do this, it's not going to work," he says.

"Bloody hell, Finnigan," snaps Parkinson, and Malfoy looks over at them. "We don't have time for a pep talk."

"Problem?" Malfoy asks, and Seamus frowns.

"He doesn't sound anything like me. And I can't sound like him."

"Which is why you're only doing this during the Astronomy lecture and dinner," Parkinson says impatiently. "You won't have to talk during either one."

"But what about him?" Seamus nods to Malfoy.

"What about me, you stupid tosser?" Malfoy asks impatiently, so close to Seamus' own accent that Seamus blinks, startled. Harry, Hermione and Parkinson start laughing.

"You-"

"Yeah, I know what you sound like, Finnigan," Malfoy says, still in Seamus' accent, totally deadpan. "Probably as well as your own Mam does. Now go on with you."

"He's good at imitations, Finnigan," says Parkinson, pushing Seamus out the door after making sure that the corridor is empty. "Does McGonagall so well you can almost see her glasses quivering on him."

"I didn't know that," Seamus admits. He did know that Malfoy enjoys imitating Harry in order to make fun of him, but he hasn't done that much this year, for obvious reasons. Besides, who knew he could do it for real?

"No, of course not," Parkinson says scornfully as they head down the corridor, and Seamus frowns at her.

"Well why should I?"

"He lived with Potter how many months? And how long did he spend in your dorm?"

"He wasn't exactly friendly."

"Neither were you."

"What?" Parkinson turns the corner and they head out into a busy corridor. "What are you talking about?" Seamus asks. "I was friendly."

Parkinson snorts cynically, then smiles and leans closer to him and he's momentarily disoriented. "Draco, come on, we don't want to be late," she says, raising her voice slightly, and he's totally thrown off during the second it takes him to remember just what it is they're doing. He tries to blank out his face so that the gaggle of first years walking past don't notice he's not actually Draco Malfoy. Not that any of them are looking.

"Stand up straight," Parkinson hisses through her teeth, and Seamus does his best.

"I was friendly," he mutters back at her once the little ones have gone past.

"When you weren't racing off to the loo whenever Draco and Potter got within arms' reach of each other."

"What are you talking about?" Seamus frowns at her.

"A wee bit homophobic, are we, Finnigan?"

"I'm not hom-" Seamus suddenly remembers himself and lowers his voice as a group of fourth year Ravenclaw girls walk past them, loudly arguing over an Arithmancy exercise. "I'm not homophobic," he says firmly once they're past.

"Oh of course not," Parkinson says dryly.

"I'm not!"

"Whatever you say," Parkinson says, reaching the Astronomy classroom and grasping the door handle. Seamus pulls on her sleeve and she turns around, her eyebrows raised.

"I'm not homophobic," he tells her heatedly. "I didn't mind that they were together. I just didn't see why they had to do... some things in public."

"What things? Hold hands?  _Snog_? How horribly brazen of them."

"Look, I just don't like to see that kind of thing; it doesn't mean I think any less of Harry for doing any of it."

"You're a half-blood, right? Muggle father, witch mother?"

"Yeah, why?"

"It shows," Parkinson said dryly.

"Excuse me?"

"Muggles do love focussing on what's important, don't they. Like the colour of a person's skin, or the sex of the person they sleep with. Who cares about what they're like as a person, or how strong their magical ability is." She shook her head contemptuously. "And you wonder why we don't want your kind around."

"You're saying I didn't like watching Harry and Malfoy snogging because my dad's a Muggle?"

"Everybody knows how prejudiced Muggles are about-"

Seamus interrupts her, outraged. "Where do you get off telling me what Muggles are like?!" he almost shouts, and Parkinson starts in alarm. They both automatically glance around and Seamus breathes a sigh of relief. They're alone in the corridor.

"My dad doesn't have a problem with it," he says, lowering his voice. "His brother's gay. It's my Mam who's disgusted by it. She won't even let my dad invite his own brother into our house. And she's a  _pureblood_ ," Seamus says forcefully. "So don't go making assumptions about her either." Parkinson gapes at him, momentarily off-balance. "And stop making assumptions about me too while you're at it!"

"And stop talking like the ignorant Irish buffoon that you are," Parkinson snaps back, her embarrassment turning to hostility. "Do try to remember that you're supposed to be Draco Malfoy, and try to act like it. And keep your opinions about Muggles to yourself while you're at it!"

Seamus narrows his eyes at her. The hell with this sanctimonious prejudiced Slytherin bitch. The hell with her precious Slytherin friend, for that matter. Seamus sure as hell doesn't need to waste his time pretending to be the bigoted little bastard just to keep him safe from his lunatic of a father.

"Maybe I don't want to act like him," he says belligerently.

"What?"

"Maybe I don't need to be walking around looking like a great bloody poofter who's too scared of his Dad to stand up for himself!" he sneers at her, and, infuriatingly, she smirks back at him.

"Poofter? Finnigan, are you using a derogatory term for a boy who likes other boys?"

"That's the general meaning of the word, yeah," Seamus says nastily.

"Hm... I wonder, if Potter's boyfriend's a poofter, what does that make Potter?"

Seamus glares at her. "Shut up. Harry's not like that, he's just under the bond spell. Malfoy's the one who's still with him even without a bond."

"If you really believe a bond is all that's got Harry with Draco, you're even thicker than I thought you were."

"You know what? I don't have to put up with this."

"So you're going to do what? Stomp back to the hospital wing and tell Draco to bugger off?" she says scornfully.

"Yeah! I don't know if you've noticed or not, but I don't have to do this - I'm doing Malfoy a  _favour_!"

Parkinson sneers at him. "Oh, go ahead. Go back to the hospital wing, stop trying to hide the fact that Draco's in there with Potter. See if you can get him into even bigger trouble than he's already in, why don't you. I'm sure it'll make your day. You've probably been itching to do this for years."

"Fine," he turns on his heel and starts back to the hospital.

"And I'm sure Potter will understand," she calls out.

Seamus stops.

"Right," he mutters, kicking himself for forgetting that one rather important fact. Right, Harry. He closes his eyes and reaches for patience. He's going to need it, if he's going to spend the next three hours with Pansy Parkinson, a girl who can't even see that her prejudice towards Muggles is just as bad as any supposed prejudice Seamus harbours towards gays.

Oh, this is going to be a bloody long afternoon.

**_Draco_ **

He's worn Weasley's patched robes, made himself awkwardly drop a bottle of pain relief potion in front of Colin Creevey when Creevey visited the hospital during one of Draco's turns as Longbottom, tried not to blink in confusion every time he caught a glimpse of his own chocolate-brown hands out of the corner of his eye, had to force his mouth into witless Irish banter when Hannah Abbott showed up to visit Harry during a Finnigan period - even worked the word "blimey" into the conversation - and spent the dawn hours wondering if Weasley was going to blow the whole thing last night when Harry finally admitted he needed Draco to stay with him overnight.

Blaise thinks Crabbe and Goyle suspect something. Not that either is likely to figure out what, exactly, "something" means.

This can't go on much longer. He can't keep doing this. Every time Harry's asleep, Draco gets tired of the whole thing, tired of seeing nothing but the hospital wing, tired of the taste of Polyjuice, tired of spending time with only Harry and occasionally Granger or Pansy. Every time, he tells himself he's being an idiot and determines that the next time Harry awakens he's going to regretfully tell him he has to leave.

And then Harry wakes up, usually feeling ill or nauseated. And he can see that Harry feels better when Draco touches him, whatever guise he's currently wearing. And he decides to give it one more day.

One more day, and please, please, let there be some sort of cure for this. It's foolish to hope for something so impossible, but Harry's come through so many impossible predicaments before. There's got to be some way for him to get out of this, and Draco's willing to risk quite a bit - within reason - to give Harry the chance to be rescued yet again. There's got to be something that will save him.

There's got to be.

**ooooooo**

**ooooooo**

**_Author's Notes:_ ** _Another doodling update, "five hideous days" that take place between chapter 21 and the epilogue._

**Day 178, Thursday, March 25 to Day 183, Tuesday, March 30**

The last thing Harry remembers is that he'd been laughing at something Seamus had said at dinner. They were at the Gryffindor table, for the third meal since they'd been bonded again, and Harry had stopped worrying what Draco was going to do with no friends or house around him because there was no point thinking about it. He'd cast his lot in with Harry and his friends, and there was no point trying to pretend anything different. He wasn't being terribly friendly to any of the Gryffindors, but that was all right; they still hadn't heard from his father, were waiting for the axe to fall in the form of yet another Prophet headline, and it was understandable that Draco wouldn't want to talk very much right now.

Seamus had just finished the punchline to his hag, hippogriff and selkie joke, and Harry had laughed and turned to Draco in time to catch a half-amused glimmer in his eyes before Draco suddenly gasped and put a hand to his chest, dropping his glass of pumpkin juice. Harry felt the shock and grabbed Draco's hand, and instinctively pulled Draco to him as if he could physically take the pain and transfer it from Draco to himself.

Draco's mark.

Draco's last memory is of tepid pumpkin juice, and an irate thought that Malfoy house elves would never allow pumpkin juice to sit until it got warm. Or perhaps he'd just noticed for the tenth time that it was odd how, even though he didn't belong at the Gryffindor table, he felt a damn sight more relaxed here than he had in the three weeks that he'd been a pariah at Slytherin. Feeling like a long nightmare of exclusion and fog that had begun the day his father had disowned him was finally lifting.

And then a burst of flame. Flame from the mark that had sat like a curse-mine on his chest ever since his father had put it there.

Hermione remembers only a slight worry over her Arithmancy test the next day, and then Malfoy suddenly gasping and a shattered glass on the floor and Harry moving lightning-fast to grab Malfoy as his eyes closed tightly and he drew in on himself, hand to his chest, Harry's arms encircling him.

Oh my god-

Fuck!

Malfoy!

What the-

Draco!

Pale faces around the table, a buzz going around the Great Hall and teachers getting up, so much like that day so long ago when they both collapsed, except this time Snape and McGonagall were rushing to the same table and neither boy was unconscious, and Snape looked half-livid and half-nauseated, unconsciously rubbing his forearm, and none of them could touch either boy, what with the bond having just been renewed. Harry murmuring quickly to Malfoy. Malfoy's breathing laboured, his body rigid, his forehead against Harry's and his eyes clenched tight.

Harry's memories of the next five days are mercifully blurred, and he hopes Draco's are even more so. The effect of the mark ranged from mild irritation to dull ache to clawing ripping agony that left Draco unable to do much more than lie shivering in Harry's arms, and he doesn't really want to remember most of that.

Draco's memories aren't nearly as hazy as he'd like them to be. He's considered Obliviating them.

Harry remembers wishing desperately, many times, that he hadn't let Draco re-enter the bond. That they'd waited just a little longer for the Healers to find some way of helping him without putting Draco in danger. He remembers being afraid to ask Draco if he regretted his decision, and rationalizing his own silence as plain common sense, because it didn't matter what Draco did or didn't regret. The decision had been made, and there was no going back.

Draco knows what Harry was afraid to ask, and he's glad Harry never asked it.

Hermione remembers feeling sickest of all at the fact that, of all the teachers, students, Healers and Aurors who bustled around or stood helplessly watching Malfoy suffer, not one person ever suggested he return to his father. Not one of them was willing to trust that Lucius Malfoy wouldn't kill his only son, or hand him over to Voldemort. The closest anyone ever came was one Auror who commented on how frustrating it was that they were going crazy trying to locate Lucius, when they all knew that if Draco accepted his summons he'd be immediately drawn to wherever Lucius happened to be.

Pansy remembers starting to develop a hex to work on Lucius. It had to do with rather a lot of pain, both physical and emotional. She didn't finish it, but still has her notes, and every so often, when she remembers Draco's ashen features and the way his sweat-soaked hair clung to his forehead as Potter held him through the worst of it, she fiddles around with her curse some more.

Both Pansy and Snape - and quite a few other Slytherins - remember the bitterness of knowing that the only reason Aurors were frantically looking for Lucius was that Draco's suffering was affecting Potter.

They remember the day an Auror started to say something about "the Malfoy boy," as they so caringly called him, and got only as far as "the-" before he stopped. And that's when they all realized he'd been disowned again.

Draco doesn't remember that; he was too busy praying that he could pass out.

A few minutes later, Draco had ripped his signet ring off again, and Harry and Draco both remember the flash of wandless magic that shattered the ring and sent white-hot pieces of it flying in every direction. They both remember one of Madam Pomfrey's bedsheets bursting into flame on contact. But Draco doesn't remember that it was both of them who cast the spell. Harry does.

Snape and Blaise and Pansy all remember how, for a while after that, Draco was "Potter's spouse" to the Aurors. Until at one point the Golden Boy overheard one of them and nearly gave her a heart attack as he suddenly rounded on her in fury, with a long expletive-peppered diatribe that ended with "And his  _name_  is  _DRACO_!"

Snape remembers it as possibly the only time he ever felt anything positive towards Potter.

Pansy only remembers that Draco didn't hear any of it.

Blaise remembers that as the moment he decided where to cast his vote. Not so much because it was oh so romantic that dear, heroic Harry Potter stood up for his spouse and demanded he be treated with respect, but because Potter's furious involuntary magic shook the beds in the infirmary, put out a couple of candles, shattered a glass vial, and scared the living hell out of the sanctimonious Auror - and Blaise, actually - without Potter even noticing what he was doing.

Potter, Blaise decided, was scary as shit. And had maybe had more than just sheer dumb luck on his side all those times he'd beaten the Dark Lord.

Neville remembers that during one of the times Malfoy felt relatively fine, he played Dragon Rummy with Neville while Harry slept, exhausted from being up all night. And at one point Malfoy had winced and caught his breath, Neville asked if maybe he should wake up Harry, and Malfoy shook his head impatiently.

"Let him sleep," he'd said curtly, shuffling the cards. "I can deal with this on my own. I'm sure I'll wake him up screaming in an hour or so anyway." And Neville felt the way Malfoy almost always made him feel, like a bumbling, ineffective idiot.

Then he'd reassured himself that maybe he wasn't all that ineffective; if he could make Malfoy act like Malfoy, despite what was going on, maybe he was doing some good after all. He'd gone on to win the next round.

Harry remembers Draco pulling him close at one point, possibly on the third day, kissing him and fumbling with his jumper. He remembers Draco choking out, "Blow me, fuck me, I don't care which, just - God, give me something else to think about," and he remembers not hesitating before portkeying them both to their bedroom, not even bothering to say anything to Ron and the two startled Aurors who were with them in their sitting room, slamming the door shut with wandless magic, grabbing Draco and pushing him back onto the bed and proceeding to do anything and everything Draco wanted him to do. He remembers how Draco was in pain through the whole thing, how rough they were with each other, how Draco didn't even bother to prepare him before shoving into him, how much it hurt and how little he cared, as he urged Draco on. How good it felt to be with Draco even for a few moments while Draco had something else on his mind other than pain.

Draco only remembers the cool soothing feel of Harry underneath him, the brightness of his climax, the brief respite from hurt.

They both remember Pomfrey taking Draco's wand away during one of his more lucid moments on the fourth day. Only Harry remembers Pomfrey and Hermione and a couple of Order members whispering about giving Draco some kind of potion to dampen his magic, as his emotional control got more and more fragile and his magic started to manifest itself randomly and increasingly destructively. Thankfully, Snape was able to convince them to just keep trying to contain Draco's magic safely. Informed them, moreover, that dampening potions might make the rest of them safer, but would take away any defence Draco had against the effects of the mark.

Hermione remembers a Healer asking Snape if he had any thoughts on what might help Malfoy. She remembers that Snape talked for about an hour about the Dark Mark, answering every question the Healer asked, and ended up filling several parchments on the subject, much of his information based on firsthand experience. Remembers also that he didn't even flinch when he saw her reading the parchments.

They all remember brief respites when, thankfully, the torment ceased. For some of those, they figure Lucius was probably asleep. The rest were caused by various spells or potions that blocked or counteracted the effect of the mark for a while.

None were effective for long. Lucius, clever and inventive as always, had improved on Voldemort's original designs, they'd realized early on. In fact, Lucius had the power to drive Draco insane, literally - and a hell of a lot faster than they'd expected, too. And what with Draco and Harry being bonded, it was possible that Harry could very well be done in by Draco's insanity or eventual suicide. The possibility that this had been Lucius' plan all along was quietly discussed among the Aurors, though none of them was stupid enough to mention that particular theory in front of Draco. Or Harry, for that matter.

Harry remembers Draco finally breaking down around the fourth day, and remembers not being able to stop his own tears. He remembers both of them sobbing tiredly in each other's arms, and it wasn't cathartic and it wasn't cleansing and it wasn't a relief, it was just painful and exhausting and hopeless.

Draco doesn't remember much about one potion they were warned would "probably cause some regression, disorientation, loss of inhibitions," and a string of other side effects. He doesn't remember agreeing to take it, because he didn't. By that point he was in no shape to consent to or refuse any kind of treatment, and Harry was making all medical decisions for him. He does remember that the world lost all its hard edges, and he said quite a lot of things, and Harry was there.

Harry remembers everything Draco babbled about, his eyes dazed and his voice very soft.

"I love you, you know. Course you know. I don't know when that happened. My father'll be furious." Blink. "Wait, he found out, didn't he?"

"Yeah, he did."

"Mm. Miserable bastard anyway. Y'know I always wanted to be like him. He was so strong. He was really nice, too, sometimes. D'you know he got me a baby dragon, when I was a kid? And he used to take me flying when I was really small. But he was such a bastard."

"I know, Draco."

"I love you."

"Erm... me too, Draco."

"Y'know I used to think you were such a git. No, I really did."

"I believe you."

"But bloody bond spell, powerful, isn't it? Can I have some water?"

"Sure."

"Thanks. Still hurts, you know. Why would he do that? If I ever have kids I'm not going to be like him. Only they'll have to be respectful. D'you ever wish you knew your parents?"

"Yeah."

"I don't have any, any more. I don't think Mum'll go against Father." Sudden frown. "Shit. You're the only family I've got."

"You're the only family I've got, too," Harry said, smiling a bit.

"That's all right, then. I dunno when I fell in love with you. I was so pissed at you, and the fucking bond. That's why I got angry that time, when we were suspended."

"Because you'd fallen in love?"

"Well no, but I was starting to like you and that really pissed me off. I'm really sorry the papers said you were abusive. When did you?"

"When did I what?"

"Fall in love with me."

"Oh. Erm... not sure." Uncomfortable pause that Draco didn't seem to notice. "Erm, I dunno, sometime around when we slept together that first time. I think."

"Wow, that's a long time. The mark hurts."

"I know."

"It really hurts."

"I know."

"Fucking bastard." Another frown. "Can you make it stop?"

Harry sighed. "No. I'm sorry."

"You can do other things, though. You're really powerful. Why can't you make it stop?"

Harry closed his eyes and held Draco closer.

"'Sokay. I don't mind. Hey, don't look like that. Think I could go flying?"

"N-no, Draco, you're - if you lost control and fell-"

"Yeah, I suppose. But chocolate frogs might be nice. Merlin, what am I, twelve? Firewhiskey."

None of them remember the last time the torment stopped, because it had stopped so many times. Stopped, only to return again, and in some ways the return was worse for the respite. Draco remembers just closing his eyes and going to sleep, knowing he'd be awakened when it began again. He thinks he was in the Gryffindor common room.

He definitely remembers waking up though, ten hours later, in the Gryffindor boys' dorm, from hunger rather than pain. Seeing Harry still asleep next to him, shadows under his eyes and three days' stubble along his jaw. Most of the other Gryffindor boys still asleep, and Granger curled up in a large armchair next to their bed, hugging a book to her chest. Weasley sitting next to her, absently rubbing her back as she slept, staring off into the distance. Glancing in his direction, automatically starting to get up to call the Healer - and then registering that Draco didn't seem to be in pain.

"You all right?" he'd said, his voice rough.

Draco thought for a moment. "Yeah," he'd said, and winced at the raw tone of his voice.

Ron remembers the other boys in the dorm waking up one by one, Seamus blearily staring at Malfoy and saying something like, "D'you think it's really over? He gave up? Or maybe the Aurors found him."

He also remembers Dean saying, with uncharacteristic obtuseness, "Or maybe he's dea-" before Neville elbowed him.

"I should be so lucky," Malfoy muttered bitterly. "If he is I hope he rots in hell."

And none of them had any clue what to say to that. Harry had said nothing, just rubbed his jaw thoughtfully, then Accio'd their towels and soap and shaving potion and tugged on Malfoy's arm, silently nodding towards the washroom and much-needed showers.

Ron still shudders when he remembers the vicious hatred in Malfoy's voice as he wished his father dead. Can't find it in himself to censure Malfoy.

Draco won't say what he felt when he was told that Lucius hadn't been arrested - or killed - by Aurors. Won't say how he felt about his father leaving Voldemort's side and going underground. Won't say whether he believes Lucius finally remembered that a father is supposed to love his son, or whether he believes Lucius had some other reason for abandoning everything he'd worked for, for over half his life. Won't admit to still worrying that some day the pain might return.

Harry's pretty sure he knows what Draco thinks and feels about all of the above. But he's never asked, and probably never will. Some things don't get better when you talk about them, some memories are best left unremembered, and some wounds can only be healed by time.


End file.
